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HUMOROUS    HITS 

AND 

How  to  Hold   an  Audience 


HUMOROUS   HITS 

AND 

How  to   Hold  an  Audience 


A  COLLECTION  OF  SHORT 
SELECTIONS,  STORIES  AND 
SKETCHES  FOR  ALL  OCCASIONS 


By 

GRENVILLE    KLEISER 

Author  of  ''Hoiv  to  Speak  in  Public'" 


FIFTH    EDITION 


FUNK  &  WAGNALLS   COMPANY 

NEW  YORK    AND    LONDON 


Copyright  1908  by 

FUNK  &  AVAGNALLS  COMPANY 

Trinted  in  the  United  States  of  America 

Published  March,  1903 

All  rights  reserved 


INTRODUCTORY 


In  preparing  this  volume  the  author  has  been  guided  by 
his  own  platform  experience  extending  over  twelve  years. 
During  that  time  he  has  given  hundreds  of  public  recitals 
before  audiences  of  almost  every  description,  and  in  all 
parts  of  the  country.  It  may  not  be  considered  presumptu- 
ous, therefore,  for  him  to  offer  some  practical  suggestions 
on  the  art  of  entertaining  and  holding  an  audience,  and  to 
indicate  certain  selections  which  he  has  found  have  in 
themselves  the  elements  of  success. 

The  ' '  encore  fiend, "  as  he  is  sometimes  called,  is  so  ubiq- 
uitous and  insistent  that  no  speaker  or  reader  can  afford 
to  ignore  him,  and,  indeed,  must  prepare  for  him  in  ad- 
vance. To  find  material  that  will  satisfy  him  in  one  or  in 
a  dozen  of  the  ordinary  books  of  selections  is  an  almost 
impossible  task.  It  is  only  too  obvious  that  many  compila- 
tions of  the  kind  are  put  together  by  persons  who  have 
had  little  or  no  practical  platform  experience.  In  an  at- 
tempt to  remedy  this  defect  this  volume  has  been  prepared. 

It  is  believed  that  the  book  will  be  valuable  not  only  to 
the  amateur  and  the  professional  reader,  speaker,  elocu- 
tionist, and  entertainer,  but  also  to  the  after-dinner  and 
impromptu  speaker,  the  politician  who  wants  to  make  a 
"hit,"  the  business  man  who  wishes  to  tell  a  good  story 
and  tell  it  effectively,  the  school-teacher  in  arranging  her 
"Friday  Afternoon"  programs,  as  well  as  for  reading 
aloud  in  the  family  circle,  and  for  many  other  occasions. 


vi  INTRODUCTORY 

Providing,  as  this  work  does,  helpful  hints  on  how  to  hold 
an  audience,  it  is  hoped  that  the  additional  suggestions 
offered  regarding  the  use  of  the  voice  and  its  modulation, 
the  art  of  pausing,  the  development  of  feeling  and  energy, 
the  use  of  gesture  and  action,  the  cultivation  of  the  imagina- 
tion, the  conmiitting  of  selections  to  memory,  and  the  stand- 
ing before  an  audience,  while  not  as  elaborate  and  detailed 
as  found  in  a  regular  manual  of  elocution,  will  be  of  prac- 
tical benefit  to  those  who  can  not  conveniently  command 
the  services  of  a  personal  instructor. 

The  author  has  been  greatly  assisted  in  this  undertaking 
not  only  by  the  kind  permission  of  publishers  and  authors 
to  use  their  copyrighted  work,  but  also  by  the  hearty  co- 
operation of  many  distinguished  platform  speakers  and 
readers  who  have  generously  contributed  successful  selec- 
tions not  hitherto  published. 

The  author  gratefully  acknowledges  the  special  permis- 
sion granted  him  by  the  publishers  to  print  the  following 
copyright  selections:  "Keep  A-goin'!"  the  Bobbs-lMerrill 
Company;  ''A  Modern  Romance,"  the  Publishers  of  The 
Smart  Set;  "The  Fool's  Prayer,"  Houghton,  Mifflin  & 
Company;  "Mammy's  Li'l'  Boy,"  and  "  'Spiicially  Jim," 
the  Century  Company;  "Counting  One  Hundred,"  the 
Lothrop,  Lee  &  Shepard  Company;  "At  Five  O'clock  Tea," 
the  Publishers  of  Lippincott's  Magazine. 

Grenville  Kleiser. 
New  York  City, 
February,  1908. 


CONTENTS 


Introductory        ....  ^'^^li 

PART  I— HOW  TO   HOLD  AN   AUDIENCE 

The  Voice 4 

The  Breath q 

Modulation g 

Pausing 10 

Feeling  and  Energy H 

Gesture  and  Action 12 

Impersonation 13 

Articulation  and  Pronunciation 13 

Imagination 14 

How  TO  Memorize  a  Selection 16 

Before  the  Audience 18 

PART    II— HUMOROUS    HITS 

The  Train-misser James  Whitcomh  Riley  23 

The  Elocutionist's  Curfew      .     .     .      .     W.  D.  Nesbit  24 

Melpomenus  Jones Stephen  Leacoek  25 

Her  Fifteen  Minutes Tom  Masson  28 

My  Funny  Experience  with  a  Whistler      G.  H.  Snazelle  29 

The  Dead  Kitten Anonymous  33 

The  Weather  Fiend "  34 

The  Race  Question     ....     Paul  Laurence  Dunbar  35 

When  the  Woodbine  Turns  Red     .      .      .     Anonymous  38 

Cupid's  Casuistry W.J.  Lampton  39 

When  Mah  Lady  Yawns     ....     Charles  T.  Grilley  39 

vii 


Viii  CONTENTS 


PAGE 


Watchin'  the  Sparkin'     .      .      .     Fred  Emerson  Brooks  40 

The  Wat  op  a  Woman Byron  W.  King  42 

The  Yacht  Club  Speech Anonymous  43 

Mammy's  Li'l'  Boy H.  S.  Edwards  44 

CORYDOX Thomas  Bailey  Aldrieh  47 

Gib  Him  Oxe  ub  Mine    ....     Daniel  Webster  Davis  49 

A  Lesson  with  the  Fan Anonymous  50 

The  Undertow Carrie  Blake  Morgan  51 

Marketing Anonymous  52 

A  Spring  Idyl  on  "Grass"    ....     Nixon  Waterman  52 

Introducin'  the  Speecher     ....     Edwin  L.  Barker  54 

Counting  One  Hundred      ....     James  M.  Bailey  57 

They  Never   Quarreled Anonymous  58 

Song  op  the  ''L" Grenville  Kleiser  60 

The  Village  Oracle J.  L.  Harbour  62 

Ip  I  Can  Be  by  Her     .      .      .     Benjamin  Franklin  King  65 

McCarthy  and  McManus Anonymous  66 

And  She  Cried Minna  Irving  68 

Dot  Leedle  Boy James  Whit  comb  Riley  69 

Mr.  Dooley  on  the  Grip     .      .      .     Finlay  Peter  Dunne  73 

A  Rainy  Day  Episode Anonymous  75 

I  Knew  He  Would  Come  if  I  Waited      //.  G.  Williamson  76 

Love's  ]\Ioods  and  Senses Anonymous  77 

A  Nocturnal  Sketch Thomas  Hood  78 

Katie's    Answer Anonymous  79 

"'Spacially  Jim" "  80 

Agnes,  I  Love  Thee! "  81 

The  Gorilla "  82 

Banging  a  Sensational  Novelist     ...              "  83 

Hopkins'  Last  Moments "  84 

The  FAmiEs'  Tea «  85 


CONTENTS  ix 


PACE 


Counting  Eggs Anonymous  86 

The  Oatmobile "  87 

Almost  Beyond  Endurance     .       James  Whitcomb  Riley  89 

Proof  Positive Anonymous  90 

The  Irish  Philosopher "  91 

Belagcholly  Days "  93 

A  Pantomime  Speech "  93 

The  Original  Lamb "  95 

When  Pa  Was  a  Boy S.  E.  Riser  95 

The  Freckled-paced  Girl Anonymous  96 

Willie Max  Ehrmann  98 

Amateur  Night Anonymous  98 

Bounding  the  United  States John  Fiske  101 

Der  Dog  und  der  Lobster Anonymous  102 

He  Laughed  Last "  103 

NoRAH  Murphy  and  the  Spirits     .      .      .     Henry  Hatton  104 

Opie  Read Wallace  Bruce  Amshary  107 

The  Village  Choir Anonymous  108 

Billy  of  Nebraska J.  W.  Bengough  110 

Dot  Lambs  Vot  Mary  Haf  Got     ....     Anonymous  112 

Georga  Washingdone "  113 

Da  'Mericana  Girl T.  A.  Daly  114 

Becky   Miller Anonymous  115 

Pat  and  the  Mayor "  116 

The  Liverwing  Testimonial M.  B.  Spurr  118 

Ups  and  Downs  of  Married  Life       .      .      .     Anonymous  121 

The  Crooked  Mouth  Family "  122 

"Imph-m'' "  124 

The  Usual  Way "  125 

Nothing  Suited  Him '  126 

A  Little  Feller "  126 


X  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Robin  TamsON'S  Smiddt       ....     Alexander  Rodger  127 

A  Big  Mistake Anonymous  129 

Lord  Dundreary's  Letter "  131 

Slang  Phrases "  133 

The  Merchant  and  the  Book  Agent     .     .              "  134 

The  Coon's  Lullaby "  136 

Parody  on  Barbara  Frietchie       ....              "  137 

Before  and  After Charles  T.  Grilley  139 

When  Greek  Meets  Greek Anonymous  140 

Mr.  Potts'  Story Max  Adeler  141 

At  Five  O'clock  Tea Morris  Wade  143 

Keep  A-goin'  ! Frank  L.   Stanton  145 

A  Lover's  Quarrel Cynthia  Coles  146 

Casey  at  the  Bat Phineas  Thayer  147 

Familiar  Lines Anonymous  149 

A  Friendly  Game  of  Checkers     ....              "  150 

Modern  Romance Henry  21.  Blossom ^  Jr.  152 

Lullaby ratd  Laurence  Dunbar  153 

The  Reason  Why Mary  E.  Bradley  154 

How  a  Bachelor  Sews  on  a  Button     .      .     Anonymous  154 

Christopher  Columbus "  155 

The  Fly "  156 

The  Yarn  of  the  "Nancy  Bell"     .      ,      .     TF.  S.  Gilbert  157 

I  TOL'  Yer  So John  L.  Heaton  160 

"You  Git  Up  !" Joe  Kerr  161 

Presentation  of  the  TRUJrrKT     ....     Anonymous  162 

Don't  Use  Big  Words "  163 

Der  Mule  Shtood  on  der  Steamboad  Deck  .              "  164 

The  New  School  Reader "  165 

The  Poor  Was  Mad     ....     Charles  Battell  Loomis  167 

LiDES  TO  Bary  Jade Anonymous  168 


CONTENTS 


XI 

PAGE 


"Charlie  Must  not  Ring  To-night"       .      .     Anonymous  169 

A  Short  Encore "  170 

My  Double,  and  How  He  Undid  ]\Ie  Edward  Everett  Hale  171 

Romance  of  a  Hammock Anomjmous  173 

FiNNiGiN  to  Flannigan S.  W.  Gillinan  175 

An  Introduction Mark  Twain  177 

The  Harp  of  a  Thousand  Strings  .      .     Joshua  S.  Morris  111 

The  Difficulty  of  Riming Anonymous  179 

So  Was  I Joseph.  Bert  Smiley  181 

The  Enchanted  Shirt John  Hay  183 

Der  Oak  und  der  Vine       .      .      .     Charles  Fallen  Adams  185 

The  Ship  of  Faith Anonymous  187 

He  Wanted  to  Know "  188 

An  Opportunity "  190 

Gape-seed "  190 

Lariat  Bill "  192 

The  Candidate ^  .     .     .     .     Bill  Nye  193 

One  Afternoon Anonymous  196 

Not  In  It "  198 

A  Twilight  Idyl Robert  J.  Burdette  199 

Lavery^S  Hens Anonymous  201 

Lisp "  202 

They  Met  by  Chance "  203 

The  Bridegroom's  Toast "  203 

Rehearsing  for  Private  Theatricals    .     Stanley  Huntley  204 

The  V-a-S-e James  Jeffrey  Roche  206 

Papa  and  the  Boy J.  L.  Harbour  208 

The  Obstructive  Hat  in  the  Pit    .     .     .     .     F.  Anstey  210 

Hullo S.  W.  Foss  213 

The  Dutchman's  Telephone Anonymous  214 

How  Bill  Adams  Won  the  Battle  of  Waterloo    Snazelle  216 

The  Ruling  Passion William  H.  Siviter  219 


xii  CONTENTS 

PACE 

The  Dutchman's  Serenade Anonymous  220 

Widow  Malone Charles  Lever  222 

His  Leg  Shot  Off Anonymous  224 

The  Stuttering  Umpire The  Khan  225 

The  Man  Who  Will  Make  a  Speech     .      .     Anonymous  227 

Carlotta  Mia T.  A.  Daly  228 

The  Vassar  Girl Wallace  Incin  229 

A  Short   Sermon Anonymous  231 

A  Lancashire  Dialectic  Sketch  ....              "  232 

His  Blackstonian  Circumlocution    ...              "  233 

Katrina  Likes  Me  Poody  Vell     ....              "  234 

At  the  Restaurant "  235 

A-feared  of  a  Gal "  237 

Leaving  out  the  Joke "  238 

The  Ctclopeedy Eugene  Field  239 

Echo John  G.  Saxe  244 

Our  Railroads Anonymous  245 

Wakin'  the  Young  'Uns John  C.  Boss  247 

Pat's  Reason Anonymous  249 

Quit  Your  Foolin' "  250 

She  Would  Be  a  Mason     ....     James  L.  Laughton  251 

Henry  the  Fifth's  Wooing Shakespeare  254 

Scene  from  "The  Rivals"     .     Richard  Brinsley  Sheridan  258 

Scenes  from  "Rip  Van  Winkle"    As  Recited  by  Burbank  261 

PART  III— SERIOUS  HITS 

If  We  Had  the  Time Richard  Burton  267 

The  Fool's  Prayer Edward  Rowland  Sill  268 

The  Eve  of  Waterloo Byron  269 

The  Wreck  of  the  Julie  Plante     .     W.  II.  Drummond  271 

Father's  Way Eugene  Field  272 

I  Am  Content Carmen  Sylva  Translation  274 


CONTENTS  xiii 


PAGE 


The  Eagle's  Song nichard  Mansfield  27.5 

Break^  Break^  Break  ....     Alfred,  Lord  Tennyson  111 

ViRGiNius Macaulay  277 

The  Women  op  Mumbles  Head       .      .      .     Clement  Scott  279 

William  Tell  and  His  Boy      ....     William  Baine  282 

Lasca F.  Desprez  28-4 

The  Volunteer  Organist S.  W.  Foss  287 

Life  Compared  to  a  Game  op  Cards    .     .     .     Anonymous  289 

Old  Daddy  Turner "  290 

The  Tramp "  292 

The  Dandy  Fipth F.  II.  Gassaway  293 

On  Lincoln Walt  Whitman  296 

The  Little  Stowaway Anonymous  296 

Saint  Crispian's  Day Shakespeare  299 

The  C'rrect  Card George  R.  Sims  300 

The  Engineer's  Story Rosa  H.  Thorpe  303 

The  Face  Upon  the  Floor     .     .     .     H.  Antoine  D'Arcy  306 

The  Funeral  of  the  Flowers    .     .     T.  De  Witt  Talmage  309 

Cato's  Soliloquy  on  Immortality    .      .     Joseph  Addison  311 

Opportunity John  J.  Ingalls  312 

Opportunity's  Reply Walter  Malone  312 

The  Earl-king  ....     Johann  Wolfgang  Von  Goethe  313 

Carcassonne M.  E.  W.  Sherwood  314 

The  Musicians Anonymous  315 

On  the  Rappahannock "  317 

COMO Joaquin  Miller  319 

AuxItaliens Owen  Meredith  322 


PART    I 
HOW   TO   HOLD   AN  AUDIENCE 


HOW  TO  HOLD  AN  AUDIENCE 

To  hold  the  interest  of  an  audience  and  to  successfully 
entertain  it — whether  from  public  platform,  in  fraternal 
organization,  by  after-dinner  speech,  or  in  the  home  cir- 
cle— is  a  worthy  accomplishment.  Moreover,  the  memori- 
zing of  selections  and  rendering  them  before  an  audience 
is  one  of  the  best  preparations  for  the  larger  and  more  im- 
portant work  of  public  speaking.  IMany  of  our  most  suc- 
cessful after-dinner  speakers  depend  almost  entirely  upon 
their  ability  to  tell  a  good  story. 

The  art  of  reciting  and  story-telling  has  become  so  pop- 
ular in  recent  years  that  a  wide-spread  demand  has  arisen 
for  books  of  selections  and  suggestions  for  rendering  them. 
Material  suitable  for  encores  has  been  particularly  difficult 
to  find.  It  is  thought,  therefore,  that  the  present  volume, 
containing  as  it  does  a  great  variety  of  short  numbers,  will 
meet  with  approval. 

There  is,  perhaps,  no  talent  that  is  more  entertaining  and 
more  instructive  than  that  of  reciting  aloud  specimens  of 
prose  and  poetry,  both  humorous  and  serious,  from  our 
best  writers.    Channing  says : 

"Is  there  not  an  amusement,  having  an  affinity  with  the 
drama,  which  might  be  usefully  introduced  among  us?  I 
mean,  Recitation. 

"A  work  of  genius,  recited  by  a  man  of  fine  taste,  en- 
thusiasm, and  powers  of  elocution,  is  a  very  pure  and  high 

gratification. 

s 


4  HUMOEOUS    HITS 

"Were  this  art  cultivated  and  encouraged,  great  num- 
bers, now  insensible  to  the  most  beautiful  compositions, 
might  be  waked  up  to  their  excellence  and  power. 

"It  is  not  easy  to  conceive  of  a  more  effectual  way  of 
spreading  a  refined  taste  through  a  community.  The  drama 
undoubtedl}^  appeals  more  strongly  to  the  passions  than 
recitation ;  but  the  latter  brings  out  the  meaning  of  the 
author  more.  Shakespeare,  worthily  recited,  would  be  bet- 
ter understood  than  on  the  stage. 

"Recitation,  sufficiently  varied,  so  as  to  include  pieces 
of  chaste  wit,  as  well  as  of  pathos,  beauty,  and  sublimity, 
is  adapted  to  our  present  intellectual  progress." 

To  recite  well,  and  to  be  able  to  hold  an  audience,  one 
should  be  trained  in  the  proper  use  of  the  voice  and  body 
in  expression.  This  requires  painstaking  study  and  prepa- 
ration. It  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  much  can  be  safely 
left  to  impulse  and  the  inspiration  of  the  occasion.  With 
all  great  artists  everything  is  premeditated,  studied,  and 
rehearsed  beforehand. 

Salvini,  the  great  Italian  tragedian,  said  to  the  pupils 
in  his  art:  "Above  all,  study, — study, — study.  All  the 
genius  in  the  world  will  not  help  you  along  with  any  art, 
unless  you  become  a  hard  student.  It  has  taken  me  years 
to  master  a  single  part. ' ' 


THE  VOICE 

The  voice  can  be  rapidly  and  even  wonderfully  devel- 
oped by  practising  for  a  few  minutes  daily  exercises  pre- 
scribed in  any  good  manual  of  elocution.^    Learn  to  speak 

'  See  "  How  to  Speak  in  Public,"  a  complete  manual  of  elocution,  by  Grenvilie 
Kleiser.   Published  by  Funk  &  Wagnalls  Company.    Price,  $1.25  net. 


HOW    TO    HOLD    AN    AUDIENCE  5 

in  the  natural  voice.  If  it  is  high-pitched,  nasal,  thin,  or 
unmusical,  these  defects  can  be  overcome  by  patient  and 
judicious  practise.  Do  not  assume  an  artificial  voice,  except 
in  impersonation.  Remember  that  intelligent  audiences 
demand  intelligent  expression,  and  will  not  tolerate  the 
ranting,  bombast,  and  unnatural  style  of  declamation  of 
former  days. 

Many  people  speak  with  half-shut  teeth  and  mouth.  Open 
the  mouth  and  throat  freely ;  liberate  all  the  muscles  around 
the  vocal  apparatus.  Aim  to  speak  with  ease,  and  endeavor 
to  improve  the  voice  in  depth,  purity,  roundness,  and  flex- 
ibility. Daily  conversation  offers  the  best  opportunity  for 
this  practise. 

A  writer  recently  said:  "Only  a  very,  very  few  of  us 
Americans  speak  English  as  the  English  do.  We  have  our 
own  'accent,'  as  it  is  called.  We  are  a  nervous,  eager, 
strident  people.  We  know  it,  tho  we  do  not  relish  having 
foreigners  tell  us  about  it.  We  speak  not  mellowly,  not 
with  lax  tongues  and  palates,  but  sharply,  shrilly,  with 
hardened  mouth  and  with  tones  forced  back  upon  the  palate. 
We  strangulate  two-thirds  of  our  vowels  and  swallow  half 
the  other  third.  Pure,  round,  sonorous  tones  are  almost 
never  heard  in  our  daily  speech." 

Speak  from  the  abdomen.  All  the  effort,  all  the  motive 
power,  should  come  from  the  waist  and  abdominal  muscles. 
These  are  made  to  stand  the  strain  that  is  so  often  incor- 
rectly put  upon  the  muscles  of  the  throat.  Aim  at  a  for- 
ward tone;  that  is,  send  your  voice  out  to  some  distant 
object,  imaginary  or  otherwise,  without  unduly  elevating 
the  pitch.  The  voice  should  strike  against  the  hard  palate, 
the  hard  bony  arch  just  above  the  upper  teeth.  Most  of 
the  practising  should  be  done  on  the  low  pitches. 


Q  HUMOROUS    HITS 

If  there  is  any  serious  physical  defect  of  the  throat  or 
nose,  consult  a  reliable  physician. 

Do  not  overtax  the  voice.  Three  periods  of  ten  minutes 
each  are  better  than  an  hour's  practise  at  one  time.  Stop 
at  the  first  sign  of  weariness.  Do  not  practise  within  an 
hour  after  eating.  Avoid  the  habitual  use  of  lozenges. 
There  is  nothing  better  for  the  throat  than  a  gargle  of  salt 
and  water,  used  night  and  morning.  Dash  cold  water  on 
the  outside  of  the  throat  and  rub  it  vigorously  with  a  coarse 
towel. 

THE   BREATH 

The  proper  management  of  the  breath  is  an  important 
part  of  good  speaking.  Some  teachers  say  the  air  should 
be  inhaled  on  all  occasions  exclusively  through  the  nose. 
This  is  practically  impossible  while  in  the  act  of  speaking. 
The  aim  should  be  to  speak  on  full  lungs  as  much  as  pos- 
sible ;  therefore  a  breath  must  be  taken  at  every  opportunity. 
This  is  done  during  the  pauses,  but  often  the  time  is  so  short 
that  the  speaker  will  find  it  necessary  to  use  both  mouth 
and  nose  to  get  a  full  supply  of  air.  The  breathing  should 
be  inaudible. 

Practise  deep  breathing  until  it  becomes  an  unconscious 
habit.  In  taking  in  the  hrcath  the  abdomen  and  chest  both 
expand,  and  in  giving  out  the  breath  the  abdomen  and 
chest  both  contract.  By  this  method  of  respiration  the 
abdomen  is  used  as  a  kind  of  "bellows,"  and  the  strain  is 
taken  entirely  off  the  throat.  The  breathing  should  be 
done  without  noticeable  effort  and  without  raising  the 
shoulders.  Whenever  possible  the  breathing  should  be  long 
and  deep.  While  speaking,  endeavor  to  hold  back  in  the 
lungs,  or  reservoir,  the  supply  of  air,  "feeding"  it  very 


gradiiallj^  to  the  vocal  cords  in  just  the  quantity  required 
for  a  given  tone.  Reciting  aloud,  when  properly  done,  is 
a  healthful  exercise,  and  the  voice  should  grow  and  improve 
through  use;  but  to  speak  on  half-filled  lungs,  or  from  the 
throat,  is  distressing  and  often  injurious. 

Keep  your  shoulders  well  thrown  back,  head  erect,  chin 
level,  arms  loosely  at  the  sides,  and  in  walking  throw  the 
leg  out  from  the  hip  with  easy,  confident  movement.  The 
weight  of  the  body  should  be  on  the  ball  of  the  foot,  altho 
the  whole  foot  touches  the  floor.  The  breathing  should  be 
deep,  smooth,  and  deliberate. 

When  the  breath  is  not  being  used  in  speech,  breathe  ex- 
clusively through  the  nose.  This  is  particularly  desirable 
during  the  hours  of  sleep.  As  someone  has  said,  if  you 
awake  at  night  and  find  your  mouth  open,  get  up  and  shut 
it.  A  well-known  English  authority  on  elocution  says  that 
as  a  golden  rule  for  the  preservation  of  the  health,  he  con- 
siders the  habit  of  breathing  through  the  nose  invaluable 
if  not  imperative.  Air,  which  is  the  breath  of  life,  has  al- 
ways floating  in  it  also  the  seeds  of  death.  The  nose  is  a 
filter  and  deodorizer,  in  passing  through  which  the  air  is 
cleansed  and  sent  pure  into  the  lungs.  The  nose  warms 
the  air  as  well  as  purifies  it,  and  thus  prevents  it  from 
being  breathed  in  that  raw,  damp  state  which  is  so  injurious 
to  those  whose  lungs  are  delicate. 

Speak  immediately  upon  opening  your  mouth.  Try  to 
turn  into  pure-toned  voice  every  particle  of  breath  you 
give  out.  Replenish  the  lungs  every  time  you  pause.  Light 
gymnastics,  brisk  walking,  running,  horseback  riding,  and 
other  exercise  will  improve  your  breathing  capacity. 


S  HUilOKOUS    HITS 

MODULATION 

Modulation  simply  means  change  of  voice.  These 
changes,  however,  must  be  intelligent  and  appropriate  to 
the  thought.  Monotony — speaking  in  one  tone — must  be 
avoided.  The  speaker  should  have  the  ability  to  raise  or 
lower  the  pitch  of  his  voice  at  will,  as  well  as  to  vary  it  in 
force,  intensity,  inflection,  etc. 

Do  not  confuse  "pitch"  with  "force."  Pitch  refers  to 
the  key  of  the  speaking  voice,  while  force  relates  to  the 
loudness  of  the  voice.  The  movement  or  rate  of  speaking 
should  be  varied  to  suit  the  particular  thought.  It  would 
be  ridiculous  to  describe  a  horse-race  in  the  slow,  measured 
tones  of  a  funeral  procession. 

Most  of  your  speaking  should  be  done  in  the  middle  and 
lower  registers;  but  the  higher  pitches,  altho  not  so  often 
required,  must  be  trained  so  as  to  be  ready  for  use.  These 
higher  tones  are  frequently  thin  and  unmusical,  but  they 
can  be  made  full  and  firm  through  practise. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  study  many  rules  for  inflection. 
The  speaker  should  know  in  a  general  way  that  when  the 
sense  is  suspended  the  voice  follows  this  tendency  and  runs 
up,  and  when  the  sense  is  completed  the  voice  runs  down. 
In  other  words,  the  voice  should  simply  be  in  agreement 
with  the  tendency  of  the  thought,  whether  it  opens  up  or 
closes  down.  The  lengths  of  inflection  vary  according  to 
the  thought  and  the  required  emphasis. 

For  most  occasions  the  speaking  should  be  clear-cut  and 
deliberate.  The  larger  the  room  or  hall,  the  slower  should 
be  the  speech,  to  give  the  vocal  vibrations  time  to  travel. 
Dwelling  on  words  too  long,  drawling,  or  over  precision  in 
articulation,  is  tedious  to  an  audience.    The  other  extreme, 


HOW    TO    HOLD    AN    AUDIENCE  9 

undue  haste,  suggests  lack  of  self-control,  and  is  fatal  to 
successful  effort.  Of  course  this  does  not  apply  to  special 
selections  demanding  rapid  speech. 

There  are  numerous  words  in  English  that  represent  or 
at  least  suggest  their  meaning  in  their  sound.  One  who 
aims  to  read  or  recite  well  should  study  these  effects  so  as 
to  use  them  skilfully  and  with  judgment. 

The  most  complete  and  concise  treatment  on  the  subject 
of  expression  is  perhaps  that  given  in  Hamlet's  advice  to 
the  players  when  he  says: 

"Speak  the  speech,  I  pray  you,  as  I  pronounced  it  to 
you — trippingly  on  the  tongue;  but  if  you  mouth  it,  as 
many  of  your  players  do,  I  had  as  lief  the  town  crier  spoke 
my  lines.  Nor  do  not  saw  the  air  too  much  with  your  hand, 
thus;  but  use  all  gently:  for  in  the  very  torrent,  tempest, 
and  as  I  may  say  whirlwind  of  your  passion,  you  must  ac- 
quire and  beget  a  temperance  that  may  give  it  smoothness. 
O!  it  offends  me  to  the  soul,  to  hear  a  robustious  periwig- 
pated  fellow  tear  a  passion  to  tatters,  to  very  rags,  to  split 
the  ears  of  the  groundlings;  who,  for  the  most  part,  are 
capable  of  nothing  but  inexplicable  dumb-shows,  and  noise. 
I  would  have  such  a  fellow  whipped  for  o'erdoing  Terma- 
gant ;  it  out-herods  Herod :  pray  you,  avoid  it.  .  .  . 

"Be  not  too  tame  neither,  but  let  your  own  discretion 
be  your  tutor :  suit  the  action  to  the  word,  the  w^ord  to  the 
action,  with  this  special  observance,  that  you  o'erstep  not 
the  modesty  of  nature;  for  anything  so  overdone  is  from 
the  purpose  of  playing,  whose  end,  both  at  the  first,  and 
now,  was,  and  is,  to  hold,  as  't  were,  the  mirror  up  to  na- 
ture ;  to  show  virtue  her  own  feature,  scorn  her  own  image, 
and  the  very  age  and  body  of  the  time,  his  form  and  pres- 
sure.   Now,  this  overdone,  or  come  tardy  off,  tho  it  make 


10  HUiMOROUS    HITS 

the  unskilful  laugh,  can  not  but  make  the  judicious  grieve ; 
the  censure  of  the  which  one  must,  in  your  allowance, 
o'erweigh  a  whole  theater  of  others.  0!  there  be  players, 
that  I  have  seen  play— and  heard  others  praise,  and  that 
highly— not  to  speak  it  profanely,  that,  neither  having 
the  accent  of  Christians,  nor  the  gait  of  Christian,  pagan, 
nor  man,  have  so  strutted  and  bellowed,  that  I  have  thought 
some  of  nature's  journeymen  had  made  men,  and  not  made 
them  well,  they  imitated  humanity  so  abominably." 

PAUSING 

Words  naturally  divide  themselves  into  groups  accord- 
ing to  their  meaning.  Grammatical  pauses  indicate  the 
construction  of  language,  while  rhetorical  pauses  mark 
more  particularly  the  natural  divisions  in  the  sense.  To 
jumble  words  together,  or  to  .rattle  them  off  in  "rapid- 
fire"  style,  is  not  an  entertaining  performance.  Proper 
pausing  secures  economy  of  the  listener's  attention,  and 
is  as  desirable  in  spoken  as  in  written  language. 

Pauses  should  vary  in  frequency  and  duration.  It 
should  be  remembered  that  words  are  only  symbols,  and 
that  the  speaker  should  concern  himself  seriously  about 
the  thought  which  these  symbols  represent.  The  concept 
behind  the  sign  is  the  important  thing.  The  fine  art  of 
pausing  can  be  acquired  only  after  long  and  faithful  study. 
Then  it  may  become  an  unconscious  habit.  An  old  rime 
on  this  subject  is  worth  repeating: 

"In  pausing,  ever  let  this  rule  take  place, 
Never  to  separate  words  in  any  case 
That  are  less  separable  than  those  you  join ; 
And,  wliich  imports  the  same,  not  to  combine 
)  Such  words  together,  as  do  not  relate 

So  closely  as  the  words  you  separate." 


HOW    TO    HOLD    AX    AUDIENCE  H 


FEELING  AND  ENERGY 

Before  you  can  properly  feci  what  you  say  you  must 
understand  it.  Artificial  and  imitative  methods  do  not 
produce  enduring  results.  In  studying  a  passage  or  selec- 
tion for  recitation,  the  imagination  must  be  kindled,  the 
feelings  stimulated,  and  the  mind  trained  to  concentrate 
upon  the  thought  until  it  is  experienced.  This  subjective 
work  should  ahvays  precede  the  attempt  at  objective  ex- 
pression. Everything  must  first  be  conceived,  pictured, 
and  experienced  in  the  mind.  When  this  is  done  with  intel- 
ligence, sincerity,  and  earnestness,  there  should  be  little 
difficulty  in  giving  true  and  adequate  expression  to  thought. 

In  all  speaking  that  is  worth  the  while  there  must  be 
energy,  force,  and  life.  The  speaker  should  be  wide-awake, 
alert,  palpitating.  A  speaker — and  this  applies  to  the  re- 
citer and  elocutionist — should  be,  as  someone  has  said,  ' '  an 
animal  galvanic  battery  on  two  legs.'"  He  must  know 
what  he  is  about.    He  must  he  in  earnest. 

Make  a  distinction  between  loudness  and  intensity. 
Often  the  best  effects  are  produced  by  suggesting  power 
in  reserve  rather  than  giving  the  fullest  outward  expres- 
sion. Intensity  in  reading  or  reciting  is  secured  chiefly 
through  concentration  and  a  thorough  grasp  of  the  thought. 
Endeavor  to  put  yourself  into  your  voice.  Do  not  forget 
that  deep,  concentrated  feeling  is  never  loud.  Avoid 
shouting,  ranting,  and  "tearing  a  passion  to  tatters."  Go 
to  nature  for  models.  Ask  what  one  would  do  in  real  life 
in  uttering  the  thoughts  under  consideration. 


>  See  "  Before  an  Audience,"  by  Nathan  Sheppard.    Published  by  Funk  &  Wag- 
nails  Company.    Price,  75  cents. 


12  HUMOEOUS    HITS 

The  emotions  must  be  brought  under  control  by  frequent 
practise.  Joy,  sorrow,  anger,  fear,  surprize,  terror,  and 
other  feelings  are  as  colors  to  the  artist  and  must  be  made 
ready  for  instant  use.     To  quote  Richard  Mansfield: 

''When  you  are  enacting  a  part,  think  of  your  voice  as 
a  color,  and,  as  you  paint  your  picture  (the  character  you 
are  painting,  the  scene  you  are  portraying),  mix  your  col- 
ors. You  have  on  your  palate  a  white  voice,  la  voix  blanche; 
a  heavenly,  ethereal  or  blue  voice,  the  voice  of  prayer;  a 
disagreeable,  jealous,  or  yellow  voice;  a  steel-gray  voice, 
for  quiet  sarcasm;  a  brown  voice  of  hopelessness;  a  lurid, 
red  voice  of  hot  rage;  a  deep,  thunderous  voice  of  black; 
a  cheery  voice,  the  color  of  the  green  sea  that  a  brisk  breeze 
is  crisping;  and  then  there  is  a  pretty  little  pink  voice,  and 
shades  of  violet — but  the  subject  is  endless." 

GESTURE  AND   ACTION 

No  better  advice  can  be  given  upon  this  subject  than  to 
"Suit  the  action  to  the  word;  the  word  to  the  action." 
Unless  a  gesture  in  some  way  helps  in  the  expression  and 
understanding  of  a  thought,  it  should  be  omitted.  Ges- 
ture is  not  a  mere  ornament,  but  a  natural  and  necessary 
part  of  true  expression.  The  arms  and  hands  should  be 
trained  to  perform  their  work  gracefully,  promptly,  and 
effectively.  If  too  many  gestures  are  used  they  lose  their 
force  and  meaning.  Furthermore,  too  many  gestures  con- 
fuse and  annoy  the  auditor. 

Gesture  should  be  practised,  preferably  before  a  looking- 
glass,  so  thoroughly  beforehand  as  to  make  it  an  uncon- 
scious act  when  the  speaker  comes  before  his  audience. 

The  correct  standing  position  is  to  have  one  foot  slightly 
in  advance  of  the  other.    The  taller  the  person,  the  broader 


HOW    TO    HOLD    AN    AUDIENCE  13 

should  be  the  base  or  width  between  the  feet.  The  body 
should  be  erect  but  not  rigid.  In  repose  the  arms  should 
drop  naturally  at  the  sides.  Except  in  the  act  of  gesticu- 
lating do  not  try  to  put  the  hands  anywhere,  and  above  all, 
if  a  man,  not  in  the  pockets. 

IMPERSONATION 

The  aim  here  should  be  to  lose  one's  self  in  the  part. 
To  subordinate  one's  tones,  gestures,  and  manners,  and  to 
live  the  character  for  the  time  being,  requires  no  mean 
ability.  Impersonation  calls  for  imagination,  insight,  con- 
centration, and  adaptability-.  The  impersonator  must  be 
all  at  it,  and  at  it  all,  during  the  whole  time  he  is  imper- 
sonating the  character. 

"To  fathom  the  depths  of  character,"  said  Macready, 
the  distinguished  English  actor,  "to  trace  its  latent  mo- 
tives, to  feel  its  finest  quiverings  of  emotion,  to  compre- 
hend the  thoughts  that  are  hidden  under  words,  and  thus 
possess  one's  self  of  the  actual  mind  of  the  individual  man, 
is  the  highest  reach  of  the  player's  art,  and  is  an  achieve- 
ment that  I  have  discerned  but  in  few.  Kean — when  un- 
der the  impulse  of  his  genius  he  seemed  to  clutch  the  whole 
idea  of  the  man — was  an  extraordinary  instance  among 
those  possessing  the  faculty  of  impersonation." 

Where  dialect  is  used  it  should  be  closely  studied  from 
life.  Stage  representations  of  foreign  character  are  not 
always  trustworthy  models. 

ARTICULATION  AND  PRONUNCIATION 
Articulate  and  pronounce  correctly  and  distinctly  with- 
out being  pedantic.     The  organs  of   articulation — teeth, 
tongue,  lips,  and  palate — should  be  trained  to  rapidly  and 
accurately  repeat  various  sets  of  elements,  until  any  com- 


14  HUMOROUS    HITS 

bination  of  sounds,  no  matter  how  difficult,  can  be  uttered 
with  facility,  accuracy,  and  precision. 

A  standard  dictionary  should  be  consulted  whenever 
there  is  a  doubt  either  about  the  meaning  or  the  pronun- 
ciation of  a  word.  As  to  the  standard  of  pronunciation, 
the  speaker  should  consider  at  least  these  three  things:  (1) 
authorit}',  (2)  custom,  and  (3)  personal  taste. 

There  are  many  words  commonly  mispronounced,  but 
only  a  few  can  be  referred  to  here :  Do  not  say  Toos-day  or 
Chews-day  for  Tuesday;  ur-ride  for  ride;  i-ron  for  i-urn; 
wus  for  was;  thwn  for  than;  subject  for  subject;  aiv f-fiss 
for  o/f -fiss ;  ^g-gcr  for  figure ;  to-U'ards  for  tords ;  dook  for 
dwke;  ketch  for  catch;  day-po  for  de-ipo;  ab'domen  for 
abdo'men;  advertise'ment  for  adver'tisement ;  ly'ceum  for 
lyce'um;  oc'cult  for  occult';  of^en  for  of'n;  sence  for  since; 
suggest  for  suggest;  ivownd  for  woond;  tcetJier  for  w/<ether ; 
sen'ile  for  se'nile;  acZ'dress  for  address';  il'lustrate  for  il- 
lus'trate;  ^er-own  for  crown;  winder  for  windou-;  sor  for 
saiv;  wick ucZ  for  wickecZ;  mgine  for  engine ;  ontil  for  wntil. 

Words  should  drop  from  the  mouth  like  newly-made  coins 
from  the  mint.  Practising  on  words  of  several  syllables 
is  helpful.  Some  such  as  these  will  serve  as  examples: 
' '  particularly, "  "  unconstitutional, "  "  incompatibility, ' ' 
"unnecessarily,"  "voluminous,"  "overwhelmingly,"  "ses- 
quipedalian," etc. 

IMAGINATION 

The  ability  to  make  vivid  mental  pictures  of  what  one 
recites  is  of  great  value  to  both  reader  and  hearer.  Every- 
one has  this  faculty  to  some  degree,  but  few  develop  it  as 
it  should  be  developed  for  use  in  speaking.  The  clearer 
the  mental  picture  the  speaker  has  in  mind  the  more  vivid 


HOW    TO    HOLD    AN    AUDIENCE  15 

will  it  be  to  the  hearer.  Practise  making  mental  images 
with  pictures  that  appeal  strongly  to  you.  Try  to  see 
everything  in  detail.  If  at  first  the  impressions  are  ob- 
scure, persevere  in  your  practise  and  substantial  results 
will  surely  come.  Dr.  Silas  Neff  gives  a  splendid  illustra- 
tion of  this  kind  that  can  be  effectively  used  for  practise: 
*'A  woodman  once  lived  with  his  family  near  a  shallow 
stream  which  flowed  between  high  banks  and  in  the  middle 
of  w^hich,  opposite  his  house,  was  an  island.  Half  a  mile 
up  the  stream  was  a  dam  which  supplied  water  for  a  saw- 
mill a  hundred  yards  below.  One  morning  after  the  father 
had  gone  to  the  mill  to  work,  leaving  his  wife  in  the  back 
yard  washing  some  little  garments,  their  two  little  boys 
clambered  down  the  bank  and  waded  through  the  water 
to  the  island  where  they  had  spent  many  happy  hours  in 
play.  About  the  middle  of  the  forenoon,  from  some  un- 
known cause,  the  wall  of  the  dam  suddenly  gave  way,  the 
water  plunging  through  and  nearly  filling  the  banks  of  the 
stream.  The  father  in  the  mill  heard  the  noise  and  looking 
out  saw  what  had  happened.  Immediately  thinking  of  his 
boys  he  dashed  out,  hat  and  coat  off,  on  an  awful  race  down 
the  creek  to  save  their  lives.  The  water  after  leaving  the 
dam  flowed  rather  slowly  for  some  time  and  he  was  soon 
quite  a  distance  ahead,  but  he  knew  that  unless  he  gained 
very  rapidly  here,  the  descent  being  much  greater  farther 
down,  the  water  would  overtake  his  boys  before  he  could 
reach  them.  His  wife  suddenly  looked  up  as  the  agonizing 
cries  of  her  husband  fell  upon  her  ear.  She  rushed  to  the 
front  yard.  In  quick  succession  she  distinguished  the 
words, '  Get  the  boys ! '  The  father  was  a  few  hundred  yards 
from  his  home.  The  water  had  reached  the  rapid  part  of 
the  stream  but  some  distance  behind  the  man.     The  wife 


16  HUMOEOUS    HITS 

on  hearing  the  words,  the  not  knowing  what  was  wrong, 
jumped  down  the  bank  and  ran  through  the  water,  shriek- 
ing to  the  boys.  Just  as  she  reached  the  island  they  ran 
to  her  and,  without  uttering  a  word,  she  took  one  under 
each  arm  and  started  back  as  wildly  as  she  came.  When 
half  way  over  she  saw  her  husband  dashing  out  from  the 
edge  of  the  woods  and  the  water  not  twenty  feet  behind 
him.  They  met  at  the  top  of  the  bank,  the  father  grasped 
wife  and  children  in  his  arms  and  the  water  passed  harm- 
lessly by."' 

HOW  TO  MEMORIZE  A  SELECTION 

Do  not  learn  a  selection  simply  by  rote — that  is,  by 
repeating  it  parrot-like  over  and  over  again — but  fix  it  in 
the  mind  by  a  careful  and  detailed  analysis  of  the  thought. 
As  you  practise  aloud,  train  your  eye  to  take  in  as  many 
words  as  possible,  then  look  away  from  the  book  as  you 
recite  them  aloud.  This  will  give  the  memory  immediate 
practise  and  will  tend  to  make  it  self-reliant. 

Having  chosen  a  selection,  read  it  over  first  in  a  general 
way  to  secure  an  impression  of  it  in  its  entirety.  Then  read 
it  a  second  time,  giving  particular  attention  to  each  part. 
Consult  a  dictionary  for  the  correct  meaning  and  pronun- 
ciation of  every  word  about  which  you  are  in  doubt.  Next 
underline  the  emphatic  words — those  which  you  think  best 
express  the  most  important  thoughts.  Underscoring  one 
line  for  emphatic  words  and  two  lines  for  the  most  emphatic 
will  do  for  this  purpose.  Now  indicate  the  various  pauses, 
both  grammatical  and  rhetorical,  by  drawing  short  perpen- 


"  Talks  on  Education  and  Oratory,"  by  Silas  S.  NefP,  Ne£P  College  of  Oratory, 
Philadelphia,  Pa. 


HOW    TO    HOLD    AN    AUDIENCE  17 

dicular  lines  between  the  words  where  they  occur.  In  a 
general  way  use  one  line  for  a  short  pause,  two  lines  for  a 
medium  pause,  and  three  lines  for  a  long  pause.  On  the 
margin  of  the  selection  you  may  make  other  notes,  such  as 
the  dominant  feeling,  transitions,  changes  of  rate,  force 
and  pitch,  special  effects,  gestures,  facial  expression,  etc. 

There  is,  of  course,  nothing  arbitrary  about  this  work  of 
analysis.  Its  purpose  is  to  make  the  student  think,  to  an- 
alyze, to  be  painstaking.  The  following  annotated  selection 
should  be  carefully  considered.  Words  on  which  chief  em- 
phasis is  to  be  placed  are  printed  in  small  capitals ;  those  on 
which  less  emphasis  is  to  be  placed,  in  italics.  It  is  not  in- 
tended to  be  mechanical,  but  suggestive.  After  a  few  selec- 
tions have  been  analyzed  in  this  way,  pausing  and  emphasis, 
and  many  other  elements  of  expression,  will  largely  take 
care  of  themselves. 

"To  BE  II  or  NOT  I  to  be,  ||  that  \  is  the  question: — 1|| 

Whether  |  't  is  nobler  \  in  the  mind,  ||  to  suffer 

The  slings  \  and  arrows  \  \  of  outrageous  fortune ;  1 1 

Or  I  to  take  arms  \  against  a  sea  \  of  troubles,  || 

And  by  opposing  \\  end  them?  |1| — To  die, — 1|  to  sleep,  ||] 

No  more; — 1||  and,  by  a  sleep,  \\  to  say  we  end 

The  heart-ache,  \  and  the  thousand  natural  shocks  || 

That  flesh  is  heir  to, — 1||  't  is  a  consummation  || 

Devoutly  \  to  be  icish 'd.  \\\    To  die,— 1 1 1  to  sleep :— [ | j 

To  sleep  III  perchance  to  dream  :  ||  ay,  |  there's  the  rub;  || 

For  in  that  sleep  |  of  death  \\  what  dreams  \  may  j  come,  |1 

When  we  have  shuffled  off  |  this  mortal  coil,  1 1 

Must  give  us  pause.  |||    There's  the  respect,  \ 

That  makes  calamity  \  of  so  long  life:  \\\ 

For  who  would  bear  |  the  ivhips  and  scorns  |  of  time,  \  \ 


18  HUMOROUS    HITS 

The  oppressor's  tvrong,  ||  the  proud  man's  contumely,  || 

The  pangs  |  of  despis'd  love,  ||  the  law's  delaij,  \\ 

The  insolence  \  of  office,  1 1  and  the  spurns  \ 

That  patient  merit  \  of  the  unworthy  takes,  |I 

When  he  himself  \  might  his  quietus  make  || 

With  a  bare  hodkinf  \\  who'd  these  fardels  bear,  ||| 

To  grunt  and  sweat  \  under  a  weary  life,  1 1 

But  that  the  dread  |  of  something  |  after  death — [|) 

The  undiscover'd  country,  ||  from  whose  bourn  [ 

No  traveler  returns, — 1|  puzzles  the  will,  \\ 

And  makes  us  rather  bear  |  those  ills  we  have,  \\ 

Than  fly  |  to  others  \  \  that  we  know  not  of  ?  1 1 1 

Thus  CONSCIENCE  ||  docs  make  cowards  |  of  us  all ;  || 

And  thus  |  the  native  hue  |  of  resolution  \\ 

Is  sicklied  o'er  |  Mith  the  pale  cast  \  of  thought;  \\ 

And  enterprises  |  of  great  pith  and  moment  \\ 

With  this  regard  |  their  currents  turn  awry,  1 1 

And  lose  \  the  name  \  \  of  action.  ' ' 

BEFORE  THE  AUDIENCE 

As  you  present  yourself  to  your  audience,  bow  slightly 
and  graciously  from  the  waist.  Be  courteous,  but  not  ser- 
vile. Avoid  haste  and  familiarity.  Be  punctilious  in  dress 
and  deportment,  and  be  prompt  in  keeping  your  appoint- 
ments. 

Be  sure  you  have  everything  ready  in  advance.  If  you 
have  to  use  any  properties,  such  as  a  table,  chair,  eye-glass, 
books,  reading-stand,  coat,  hat,  gloves,  letters,  etc.,  see  that 
everything  is  provided  and  in  its  place  before  the  time  set 
for  your  appearance. 

Success  often  depends  upon  the  judicious  choice  of  se- 


HOW    TO    HOLD    AX    AUDIENCE  19 

lections  for  the  occasion.  What  will  be  acceptable  to  one 
audience  may  not  please  another.  The  sentiment  and  the 
length  of  selections  depend  upon  the  time  and  place  where 
they  are  to  be  given.  When  an  audience  expects  to  be  en- 
tertained with  humorous  recitations,  to  announce  in  a 
sepulchral  voice  that  you  will  give  them  a  poem  of  your 
own  composition,  entitled  "The  Three  Corpses,"  of  melan- 
choly character,  is  likely  to  send  a  chill  of  disappointment 
through  them. 

Never  keep  your  audience  waiting.  If  an  encore  is  de- 
manded, return  and  bow,  or  if  the  demand  is  insistent, 
give  another  mlmber,  preferably  a  short  one.  Do  not  be  too 
eager  to  give  encores;  if  the  applause  is  not  insistent,  a 
bow  will  suffice. 


PART   II 
HUMOROUS   HITS 


THE   TRAIN-MISSER 

BT   JAMES   WIIITCOMB    RILEY 

'LI  where  in  the  world  my  eyes  has  bin — 
Ef  I  haint  missed  that  train  agin ! 
Chuff!  and  whistle!  and  toot!  and  ring! 
But  blast  and  blister  the  dasted  train! — 
How  it  does  it  I  can't  explain ! 
Git  here  thirty-five  minutes  before 
The  dern  thing's  due! — and,  drat  the  thing! 
It'll  manage  to  git  past — shore! 

The  more  I  travel  around,  the  more 
I  got  no  sense ! —    To  stand  right  here 
And  let  it  beat  me !    'LI  ding  my  melts ! 
I  got  no  gumption,  ner  nothin'  else ! 
Ticket-agent's  a  dad-burned  bore ! — 
Sell  you  a  ticket's  all  they  keer ! — 
Ticket-agents  ort  to  all  be 
Prosecuted — and  that's  jes'  what! — 
How'd  I  know  which  train's  fer  me? 
And  how'd  I  know  which  train  was  not? — 
Goern  and  comin'  and  gone  astray, 
And  backin'  and  switchin'  ever'-which-way  I 

Ef  I  could  jes'  sneak  round  behind 
Myse'f,  where  I  could  git  full  swing, 
I'd  lift  my  coat,  and  kick,  by  jing! 
Till  I  jes'  got  jerked  up  and  fined! — 
Fer  here  I  stood,  as  a  dern  fool's  apt 
To,  and  let  that  train  jes'  chuff  and  choo 
Right  apast  me — and  mouth  jes'  gapped 
Like  a  blamed  old  sandwitch  warped  m  two ! 

"Afterwhiles,"  copyright  1898,  The  Bobbs-Merrill   Company.     Used   by 
special  permission  of  the  publishers. 


24  HUMOROUS    HITS 

THE  ELOCUTIONIST'S  CURFEW 

BY  W.   D.   NESBIT 

England's   sun   was   slowly   setting — (Raise   j'our  right   hand   to 

your  brow), 
Filling  all  the  land  with  beauty — (Wear  a  gaze  of  rapture  now) ; 
And  the  last  rays  kissed  the  forehead  of  a  man  and  maiden  fair 
(With  a  movement  slow  and  graceful  you  may  now  push  back 

your  hair) ; 
He  with  sad,  bowed  head — (A  drooping  of  your  head  will  be  all 

right. 
Till    you    hoarsely,    sadly    whisper) — "Curfew    must    not    ring 

to-night." 


"Sexton,"   Bessie's  white   lips   faltered — (Try  here   to   resemble 

Bess, 
Tho  of  course  you  know  she'd  never  worn  quite  such  a  charming 

dress), 
"I've  a  lover  in  that  prison" — (Don't  forget  to  roll  your  r's 
And  to  shiver  as  tho  gazing  through  the  iron  prison  bars), 
"Cromwell    will    not    come    till    sunset" — (Speak    each    word    as 

tho  you'd  bite 
Every  syllable  to  pieces) — "Curfew  must  not  ring  to-night." 


"Bessie,"   calmly   spoke   the   sexton — (Here   extend   your  velvet 

pahn, 
Let  it  tremble  like  the  sexton's  as  tho  striving  to  be  calm), 
"Long,  long  y'ars  I've  rung  the  curfew"— (Don't  forget  to  make 

it  y'ars 
With  a  pitiful  inflection  that  a  world  of  sorrow  bears), 
"I  have  done  my  duty  ever" — (Draw  yourself  up  to  your  height, 
For  you're  speaking  as  the  sexton) — "Gyurl,  the  curfew  rings 

to-night !" 


HUMOEOUS    TITTS  25 

Out  she  swung',  far  out — (Now  liei-c  is  where  you've  got  to  do 

your  best; 
Let  your  head  be  twisted  backward,  let  great  sobs  heave  up  your 

chest, 
Swing  your  right  foot  through  an  arc  of  ninety  lineal  degrees, 
Then  come  down  and  swing  your  left  foot,  and  be  sure  don't 

bend  your  knees; 
Keep  this  up  for  fifteen  minutes  till  your  face  is  worn  and  white, 
Then  gaze   at   your  mangled   fingers) — "Curfew   shall   not   ring 

to-night !" 

O'er  the  distant  hills  came  Cromwell — (Right  hand  io  tlie  brow 

once  more; 
Let  your  eyes  look  down   the  distance,  say   above  the  entrance 

door) — 
At  his  foot  she  told  her  story — (Lift  your  hands   as  tho  they 

hurt)  — 
And  her  sweet  young  face  so  haggard — (Now  your  pathos  you 

assert, 
Then  you  straighten  up  as  Cromwell,  and  be  sure  you  get  it  right ; 
Don't  say  "Go,  your  liver  loves!") — well:  "Curfew  shall  not  ring 

to-night !" 

Reprinted  from  Harper^s  Magazine,  by  permission  of  Harper  and  Brothers. 

MELPOMENUS  JONES 

BY   STEPHEN"   LEACOCK 

Some  people  find  great  difficulty  in  saying  good-by  when  making 
a  call  or  spending  the  evening.  As  the  moment  draws  near  when 
the  visitor  feels  that  he  is  fairly  entitled  to  go  away,  he  rises  and 

says  abruptly,  "Well,  I  think "     Then  the  people  say,  "Oh, 

must  you  go  now?  Surely  it's  early  yet!"  and  a  pitiful  struggle 
ensues. 

I  think  the  saddest  ease  of  this  kind  of  thing  that  I  ever  knew 
was  that  of  my  poor  friend  Melpomenus  Jones,  a  curate — such 
a  dear  young  man  and  only  twenty-three !  He  simply  couldn't  get 
away  from  peoj^le.    He  was  too  modest  to  tell  a  lie,  and  too  relig- 


26  HTTMOEOUR    HITS 

ious  to  wish  to  appear  rude.  Xow  it  happened  that  he  went  to 
call  on  some  friends  of  his  on  the  very  first  afternoon  of  his  sum- 
mer vacation.  The  next  six  weeks  were  entirely  his  own — abso- 
lutely nothing  to  do.  He  chatted  a  while,  drank  two  cups  of  tea, 
then  braced  himself  for  the  effort  and  said  suddenly: 

"Well,  I  think  I " 

But  the  lady  of  the  house  said,  "Oh,  no,  Mr.  Jones,  can't  you 
really  stay  a  little  longer?" 

Jones  was  always  truthful — "Oli,  yes,  of  course,  I — er — can." 

'•Then  please  don't  go." 

He  stayed.  He  drank  eleven  cups  of  tea.  Night  was  falling. 
He  rose  again. 

"Well,  now,  I  think  I  really " 

"You  must  go?  I  thought  perhaps  you  could  have  stayed  to 
dinner " 

"Oh,  well,  so  I  could,  you  know,  if " 

"Then  please  stay;  I'm  sure  my  husband  will  be  delighted." 

"All  right,  I'll  stay";  and  he  sank  back  into  his  chair,  just 
full  of  tea,  and  miserable. 

Father  came  home.  They  had  dinner.  All  through  the  meal 
Jones  sat  planning  to  leave  at  eight-thirty.  All  the  family  won- 
dered whether  Mr.  Jones  was  stupid  and  sulky,  or  only  stupid. 

After  dinner  mother  undertook  to  "draw  him  out"  and  showed 
him  photographs.  She  showed  him  all  the  family  museum,  sev- 
eral gross  of  them — photos  of  father's  uncle  and  his  wife,  and 
mother's  brolher  and  his  little  boy,  and  awfully  interesting  photos 
of  father's  uncle's  friend  in  his  Bengal  Tiniform,  an  awfully  well- 
taken  photo  of  father's  grandfather's  partner's  dog,  and  an 
awfully  wicked  one  of  father  as  the  devil  for  a  fancy-dress  baU. 

At  eight-thirty  Jones  had  examined  seventy-one  photographs. 
There  were  about  sixty-nine  more  that  he  hadn't.     Jones  rose. 

"I  must  say  good-night  now,"  he  pleaded. 

"Say  good-night!  why  it's  only  half-past  eight!  Have  you 
anything  to  do?" 

"Nothing,"  he  admitted,  and  muttered  something  about  stay- 
ing six  weeks,  and  then  laughed  miserably. 

Just  then  it  turned  out  that  the  favorite  child  of  the  family, 
such  a  dear  little  romp,  had  hidden  Mr.  Jones'  hat;  so  father 


HUMOROUS    HITS  27 

said  that  he  must  stay,  and  invited  him  to  a  pipe  and  a  chat. 
Father  had  the  pipe  and  gave  Jones  the  chat,  and  still  he  stayed. 
Every  moment  he  meant  to  take  the  plunge,  l)ut  couldn't.  Then 
father  began  to  get  very  tired  of  Jones,  and  fidgeted  and  finally 
said,  with  jocular  irony,  that  Jones  had  better  stay  all  night — 
they  could  give  him  a  shake-down.  Jones  mistook  his  meaning 
and  thanked  him  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  and  father  put  Jones  to 
bed  in  the  spare-room  and  curst  him  heartily. 

After  breakfast  next  day,  father  went  off  to  his  work  in  the 
city  and  left  Jones  playing  with  the  baby,  broken-hearted.  His 
nerve  was  utterly  gone.  He  Avas  meaning  to  leave  all  day,  but 
the  thing  had  got  on  his  mind  and  he  simi")!}^  couldn't.  When 
father  came  home  in  the  evening  he  was  surprized  and  chagrined 
to  find  Jones  still  there.  He  thought  to  jockey  him  out  with  a 
jest,  and  said  he  thought  he'd  have  to  charge  him  for  his  board, 
he !  he !  The  unhappy  young  man  stared  wildly  for  a  moment, 
then  wrung  father's  hand,  paid  him  a  month's  board  in  advance, 
and  broke  down  and  sobbed  like  a  child. 

In  the  days  that  followed  he  was  moody  and  unapproachable. 
He  lived,  of  course,  entirely  in  the  drawing-room,  and  the  lack 
of  air  and  exercise  began  to  tell  sadly  on  his  health.  He  passed 
his  time  in  drinking  tea  and  looking  at  i^hotographs.  He  would 
stand  for  hours  together  gazing  at  the  photograph  of  father's 
uncle's  friend  in  his  Bengal  uniforai — talking  to  it,  sometimes 
swearing  bitterly  at  it.     His  mind  was  visibly  failing. 

At  length  the  crash  came.  They  carried  him  up-stairs  in  a 
raging  delirium  of  fever.  The  illness  that  followed  was  terrible. 
He  recognized  no  one,  not  even  father's  uncle's  friend  in  his 
Bengal  uniform.     At  times  he  would  start  up  from  his  bed  and 

shriek:  "Well,  I  think  I "  and  then  fall  back  upon  the  pillow 

with  a  horrible  laugh.  Then,  again,  he  would  leap  up  and  cry: 
"Another  cup  of  tea  and  more  photogi-aphs !  More  photographs! 
Hear!   Hear!" 

At  leng-th,  after  a  month  of  agony,  on  the  last  day  of  his  vaca- 
tion he  passed  away.  They  say  that  when  the  last  moment  came, 
he  sat  up  in  bed  with  a  beautiful  smile  of  confidence  playing 
upon  his  face,  and  said:  "Well — the  angels  are  calling  me;  I'm 
afraid  I  really  must  go  now.     Good  afternoon." 


28  HUMOROUS    KITS 

HER   FIFTEEN    MINUTES 

BY   TOM    MASSON 

At  exactly  fifteen  minutes  to  eight 
His  step  was  heard  at  the  garden  gate. 

And  then,  with  heart  that  was  light  and  gay, 
He  laughed  to  himself  in  a  jubilant  way, 

And  rang  the  bell  for  the  maiden  trim 
Who'd  promised  to  go  to  the  play  with  him; 

And  told  the  servant,  with  joyous  air. 

To  say  there  were  fifteen  minutes  to  spare. 

And  then  for  fifteen  minutes  he  sat 
In  the  parlor  dim,  and  he  held  his  hat, 

And  waited  and  sighed  for  the  maiden  trim 
"Who'd  promised  to  go  to  the  play  Avith  him. 

Until,  as  the  clock  overhead  struck  eight; 

He  muttered:  "Great  Scott!  it  is  getting  late"j 

And  took  a  turn  on  the  parlor  floor, 
And  waited  for  fifteen  minutes  more; 

And  thought  of  those  seats  in  the  front  parquet. 
And  midnight  came,  and  the  break  of  day; 

That  day  and  the  next,  and  the  next  one,  too, 
He  sat  and  waited  the  long  hours  through. 

Then  time  flew  on  and  the  years  sped  by, 
And  still  he  sat,  with  expectant  eye 

And  lengthening  beard,  for  the  maiden  trim 
Who'd  promised  to  go  to  the  play  with  himj 


HUMOROUS    HITS  29 

Until  one  niglit,  as  with  palsied  hand 
He  sat  in  the  chair,  for  he  couldn't  stand, 

And  drummed  in  an  aimless  way,  she  came 
And  opened  the  door  with  her  withered  frame. 

The  moon's  bright  rays  touched  the  silvered  hair 
Of  her  who  had  fifteen  minutes  to  spare. 

And  then  in  tones  that  he  strained  to  hear. 

She  spoke,  and  she  said:  "Are  you  ready,  dear?" 

Reprinted  by  permission  of  Life  Publishing  Company. 


MY   FUNNY   EXPERIENCE   WITH   A   WHISTLER* 

BY  G.  H.  SNAZELLE 

The  little  yarn  I  am  about  to  spin  is  connected  with  a  visit  I 
paid  to  Switzerland  some  five  years  ago.  Of  course,  I  presume 
that  many  of  my  audience  have  been  to  Switzerland,  and  they 
will  bear  me  out  that  it  is  a  very  beautiful  country  to  take  a 
holiday  in;  and,  for  the  information  of  those  among  my  audience 
who  have  never  been  there,  I  would  inform  them  that  it  is  not 
only  beautiful,  but  it  is  a  country  where  you  can  choose  your 
own  climate.  I  mean  in  this  way :  If  you  want  it  wann,  all 
you've  got  to  do  is  to  stay  in  the  valleys;  if  you  want  it  cooler, 
all  you've  got  to  do  is  to  go  higher  up  the  mountains.  Of  course, 
it's  a  scientific  fact  that  the  higher  you  go  the  colder  you  get — if 
you  want  it  colder  you  go  higher,  and  so  on — but  don't  go  too 
high,  for  it's  so  cold  at  the  top  of  some  of  those  Swiss  mountains 
that  you  can't  tell  the  truth.    Well,  I  was  taking  a  holiday  there 


1  When  the  whistle  is  to  be  long  it  is  printed  so . 
When  the  whistle  is  to  be  short . 

When  it  goes  from  a  low  to  a  hi^h  note 


When  it  goes  from  high  to  low 


30  HUMOROUS    HITS 

some  time  ago,  and  I  got  as  fai-  as  Lucerne,  and  everybody  kept 
telling  me  that  I  ought  lo  climb  the  Kigi.  As  you  know,  the 
Rigi  is  only  8,000  feet  high,  a  mere  mole-hill  as  far  as  Swiss 
mountains  go;  but,  personally,  I  found  it  quite  enough.  At  last 
I  got  to  the  top,  and  I  found  that  there  was  a  very  commodious 
hotel  there.  I  discovered  there  was  very  beautiful  scenery  to  be 
seen,  and  I  also  discovered  that  I  appeared  to  be  the  only  idiot 
staying  there  at  that  time  of  year — this  was  in  October — and  after 
being  there  about  three  days,  and  not  seeing  a  soul  about,  I 
thought  I  had  had  about  enough  of  it,  so  I  sent  for  the  hotel  pro- 
prietor and  asked  for  my  bill,  saying  I  thought  I'd  get  back  to 
the  valley  again — that  is  to  say,  to  Lucerne. 

The  landlord  said,  ''You  not  comfortable  here,  sax-e?" 

"Yes,"  I  said,  "I'm  very  comfortable,  but  I  feel  dull;  I  like 
society,  and  there  appears  to  be  nobody  staying  here  except 
myself." 

"Veil,  sare,"  he  said,  "of  course  you  come  to  Switzerland  in 
October,  nobody  here,  but  if  you  come  in  July  you  not  able  to 
get  a  bed." 

I  made  a  note  that  I  would  never  go  in  July,  because  I  like  a 
bed  to  sleep  on  sometimes.  "However,"  I  said,  "if  j^ou  have 
anybody  staying  at  the  hotel  besides  myself  I'll  put  in  a  day 
or  two." 

"Veil,  sare,"  he  said,  "I  have  von  gentleman  he  stop  here." 

I  remarked  that  one  would  be  enough  if  he  were  good  company 
and  sociable. 

"Ah,  sare,"  says  the  landlord,  "he  not  very  good  company;  he 
nevare  speak." 

"Never  speak!"  I  said;  "good  heavens!"  Then  it  struck  me 
that  he  might  be  deaf  and  dumb.  So  I  asked  if  that  were  the 
case. 

"No,  sare,  he  not  a  deaf,  he  not  a  dumb;  poor  gentleman,  he 
nevare  speak,  but  he  whistle  a  good  deal." 

"Whistle  a  good  deal.    I  don't  understand  you." 

"Veil,  sare,  he  tiy  to  speak  and  toujours  he  finish  up  mit  a 
vhistle." 

"I  still  fail  to  follow  you — how  long  has  he  been  here?" 

"About  four  months." 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  31 

"Has  he  Avbistled  all  the  time?" 

"Veil,  sare,  ze  poor  gentleman,  he " 

"Excuse  the  apparent  rudeness  of  the  remark,  but  has  he  paid 
his  bill?" 

"No,  sare,  he  not  pay  his  bill  yet." 

"Well,  what  does  he  do  when  you  show  him  his  bill?" 

"Oh !  mostly  he  vhistle." 

"If  there's  no  charge  for  seeing  this  curiosity,  I'd  like  to  have 
a  look  at  him  if  he  is  on  show  this  morning." 

"The  poor  gentleman  is  in  the  schmoke-room  this  morning." 

So  I  adjourned  to  the  smoke-room,  and  there  I  saw  a  young 
man  sitting  at  a  table,  wearing  a  light  tourist  suit  and  reading 
an  old  copy  of  the  Referee;  he  looked  a  gentleman,  but  looked 
particularly  wretched,  so  I  thought  I  would  not  commit  myself 
by  commencing  the  conversation.  I  thought  if  he'd  got  anythmg 
to  say,  he'd  better  begin — and  I  went  and  gazed  out  at  the  beau- 
tiful scenery  one  sees  from  the  Rigi  Kulm.  Well,  he'd  got  a  good 
deal  to  say,  and  he  did  begin ;  he  came  up  and  touched  me  on  the 

shoulder  behind,  and  he  said,  "  J      ,"  and  then  he  touched 


me  on  the  other  shoulder,  and  he  said,  " 

Then  I  faced  round,  and  I  said,  "My  friend,  I  don't  somehow 
seem  to  grasp  your  meaning." 

He  remarked,  after  making  all  manner  of  facial  contortions, 


"Yes,"  I  said,  "that's  all  very  pretty  as  far  as  it  goes,  but 
it  doesn't  go  far,  a  lot  of  it  might  become  monotonous  and  not 
heing  a  canary  I  don't  understand  you." 

"Y — you  d — don't  under  *— ^    stand  me?" 

"No,"  I  said,  "can't  say  I  do."  Probably  I  was  a  little  bit  handi- 
capped. I  hadn't  been  brought  up  in  an  aviary  to  start  with. 
I've  kept  birds.  Canaries  I've  had  and  bullfinches,  and,  of  course, 
we  understand  that  it's  a  bird's  mission  to  come  here  and  build 
a  nest  and  whistle  and  so  on,  but  when  a  man  is  sprung  upon  one 
on  the  top  of  a  mountain  who  can't  talk,  and  merely  whistles,  it 
is  a  bit  of  a  staggerer.  "But,"  I  said,  "I  hear  you  can  talk,  my 


32 


HUMOROUS    HITS 


friend.  Thei'o's  my  card  {handing  it  to  him).  What  is  your 
namef 

He  said,  "G— G— G ,"  said  he. 

"Oh,  hideed!  Hdw  do  you  spell  it?"  says  I.  "Where  do  you 
come  from?" 

"I — I — I  e — come  from  ^  """"^S^^..^^  •" 

"Yes,"  I  said,  "that's  where  I  should  imagine  you  would  come 
from." 

"No — n — no,"  he  added,  "I  c — c — come  from  New   ^y   York." 

"Oh,"  I  said,  "I  know  New     ^^     York  very  well;  a  very 

nice  city  it  is — but,"  I  asked,  "might  I  respectfully  inquire  why 
you  are  located  up  the  mountains,  and  looking  so  wretched,  and 
whistling,  and  going  on  in  that  peculiar  manner?" 

Then  he  buttonholed  me,  and  he  gave  me  this  right  in  my  ear: 

"I — I — I  was  ^^y   engaged  ~"^     to  a      /  ." 

"Oh,  indeed,"  I  said;  "nice  girl?" 

"  he  answered,  "and  sh — sh — she  wouldn't 


because  I   ^*s^  stuttered." 

"Well,"  I  remarked,  "you  certainly  have  got  it  very  bad.    Are 
you  taking  anything  for  it?" 

"Y— y— yes.     Th— th— the  ^  doe       "^       tor,  he 

said  th — th — that  if  I — I — I — was 


to         ^^      whistle  every  t — t — time  before  I 

spoke,   I    sh — sh — should   g — g — get   cured    a— a — and   th — th- 

that's  wh — why  I   ^^^.^-"x*,-^  whistle,  sir." 


HUMOKOUS    HITS  33 

THE  DEAD  KITTEN 

ANONYMOUS 

You's  as  stiff  an'  cold  as  a  stone,  little  cat ; 

Dey's  done  f rowed  out  an'  left  you  all  alone,  little  cat; 

I's  a-strokin'  you's  fur 

But  you  don't  never  purr, 
.  Nor  hump  up  anywhere — 

Little  cat,  why  is  dati 
Is  you's  purrin'  an'  humpin'  up  done? 

An'  why  is  you's  little  foot  tied,  little  cat? 
Did  dey  pisen  you's  tummick  inside,  little  cat? 
Did  dey  pound  you  wif  bricks 

Or'wif  big  nasty  sticks 

Or  abuse  you  wif  kicks? 

Little  cat,  tell  me  dat. 
Did  dey  laff  whenever  you  cried? 


Did  it  hurt  werry  bad  when  you  died,  little  cat? 
Oh,  why  didn't  you  wun  off  and  hide,  little  cat? 
Dey  is  tears  in  my  eyes, 

'Cause  I  most  always  cries 

When  a  pussy-cat  dies, 

Little  cat,  tink  of  dat. 
An'  I  am  awfully  solly,  besides. 


Des  lay  still,  down  in  de  sof  groun',  little  cat. 
While  I  tucks  the  green  grass  awound,  little  cat, 
Dey  can't  hurt  you  no  more, 

W'en  you's  tii'ed  and  so  sore; 

Des'  sleep  quiet,  you  pore 

Little  cat,  wif  a  pat. 
And  foi'get  all  the  kicks  of  the  town. 


34  HUMOKUUS    HITS 


THE  WEATHER   FIEND 

ANONYMOUS 

One  hot  day  last  summer,  a  young  man  dressed  in  thin  clothes, 
entered  a  Broadway  car,  and  seating  himself  opposite  a  stout  old 
gentleman,  said,  pleasantly : 

"Pretty  warm,  isn't  it?" 

"What's  pi-etty  warm?" 

"Why,  the  weather." 

"What  weather?" 

"Why,  this  weather." 

"Well,  how's  this  different  from  any  other  weather?" 

"Well,  it  is  warmer." 

"How  do  you  know  it  is?" 

"I  suppose  it  is." 

"Isn't  the  weather  the  same  everywhere?" 

"Why,  no, — no;  it's  Avarmer  in  some  places  and  it's  colder  in 
others." 

"What  makes  it  warmer  in  some  places  than  it's  colder  in 
others?" 

"Why,  tlie  sun, — the  effect  of  the  sun's  heat." 

"Makes  it  colder  in  some  places  than  it's  warmer  in  others? 
Never  heard  of  such  a  thing." 

"No,  no,  no.     I  didn't  mean  that.     The  sun  makes  it  warmer." 

"Then  what  makes  it  colder?" 

"I  helieve  it's  the  ice." 

"What  ice?" 

"Why,  the  ice, — the  ice, — the  ice  that  was  frozen  by — by — by 
the  frost." 

"Have  you  ever  seen  any  ice  that  wasn't  frozen?" 

"No, — that  is,  I  believe  I  haven't." 

"Then  what  are  you  talking  about?" 

"I  was  just  trying  to  talk  about  the  weather." 

"And  what  do  you  know  about  it, — what  do  you  know  about 
the  weather?" 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  35 

"Well,  I  thought  I  knew  somethmg',  but  I  see  I  don't  and  that's 
a  fact." 

"No,  SU-,  I  should  say  you  didn't !  Yet  you  oouie  into  this  car 
and  force  yourself  upon  the  attention  of  a  stranger  and  begin 
to  talk  about  the  weather  as  tho  you  owned  it,  and  I  find  you 
don't  know  a  solitary  thing  about  the  matter  you  yourself  se- 
lected for  a  topic  of  conversation.  You  don't  know  one  thing 
about  meteorological  conditions,  principles,  or  phenomena;  you 
can't  tell  me  why  it  is  Avann  in  August  and  cold  in  December; 
you  don't  know  why  icicles  form  faster  in  the  sunlight  than  they 
do  in  the  shade;  you  don't  know  why  the  earth  grows  colder  as 
it  comes  nearer  the  sun;  you  can't  tell  why  a  man  can  be  sun- 
struck  in  the  shade;  you  can't  tell  me  how  a  cyclone  is  formed 
nor  how  the  trade-winds  blow;  you  couldn't  find  the  calm-center 
of  a  storm  if  your  life  depended  on  it;  you  don't  know  what  a 
sirocco  is  nor  where  the  southwest  monsoon  blows;  you  don't 
know  the  average  rainfall  in  the  United  States  for  the  past  and 
current  year;  you  don't  know  why  the  wind  dries  up  the  gi-ound 
more  quickly  than  a  hot  sun;  you  don't  know  why  the  dew  falls 
at  night  and  dries  up  in  the  day;  you  can't  explain  the  forma- 
tion of  fog;  you  don't  know  one  solitary  thing  about  the  weather 
and  you  are  just  like  a  thousand  and  one  other  people  who 
always  begin  talking  about  the  weather  because  they  don't  know 
anything  else,  when,  by  the  Aurora  Borealis,  they  know  less  about 
the  weather  than  they  do  about  anything  else  in  the  world,  sir!" 


THE    RACE    QUESTION 

BY   PAUL   LAURENCE   DUNBAR 

Scene:  Race-track.     Enter  old  colored  man,  seating  himself. 

"Oomph,  oomph.  De  work  of  de  devil  sho'  do  p'ospah.  How 
'do,  suh?  Des  tol'able,  thankee,  suh.  How  you  come  on?  Oh, 
I  was  des  asaym'  how  de  wo'k  of  de  ol'  boy  do  p'ospah.  Doesn't 
I  frequent  the  race-track?  No,  suh;  no,  suh,  I's  Baptis'  myse'f 
an'  I  'low  hit's  all  devil's  dom's.     Wouldn't  'a'  be'n  hyeah  to- 


36  HUMOROUS    HITS 

day,  but  I  got  a  boy  named  Jim  dat's  long  gone  in  sin  an'  he 
gwine  ride  cue  dem  liosses.  Oomph,  dat  boy !  I  sut'iiy  has 
talked  to  him  and  labohed  wid  him  night  an'  day,  but  it  was 
allers  in  vain,  an'  I's  feahed  dat  de  day  of  his  rcokonin'  is  at  han'. 

"Ain't  I  ncvali  been  intrusted  in  racin'?  Humi)h,  you  don't 
s'pose  I  been  dead  all  my  life,  does  you?  What  you  laflin  at? 
Oh,  sense  me,  scuse  me,  you  unnerstan'  what  I  means.  You  don' 
give  a  ol'  man  time  to  splain  hisse'f.  What  I  means  is  dat  dey 
has  been  days  when  I  walked  in  de  counsels  of  de  ongawdly  and 
set  in  de  seats  of  sinnahs;  and  long  erbout  dem  times  I  did  tek 
most  ovahly  strong  to  racin'. 

**How  long  dat  been?  Oh,  dat's  way  long  back,  'fo  I  got 
religion,  mo'n  tluity  years  ago,  dough  I  got  to  own  I  has  fell 
from  grace  several  times  sense. 

"Yes,  suh,  I  ust  to  ride.  Ki-yi !  I  nevah  furgit  de  day  dat 
my  ol'  Mas'  Jack  put  me  on  'June  Boy,'  his  black  geldin',  an'  say 
to  me,  'Si,'  says  he,  'if  you  don'  ride  de  tail  offen  Gunnel  Scott's 
mare,  "No  Quit,"  I's  gwine  to  larrup  you  twell  you  cain't  set  in 
de  saddle  no  mo'.'  Hyah,  hyah.  My  ol'  Mas'  was  a  mighty  han' 
fu'  a  joke.     I  knowed  he  wan't  gwine  to  do  nufiin'  to  me. 

"Did  I  win?  Why,  whut  you  spec'  I's  doin'  hyeah  ef  I  hadn"' 
winned?  W'y,  ef  I'd  'a'  let  dat  Scott  niaih  beat  my  'June  Boy' 
I'd  'a'  drowned  myse'f  in  Bull  Skin  Crick. 

"Yes,  suh,  I  winned;  w'y,  at  de  finish  I  come  down  dat  track 
lak  hit  was  de  Jedgment  Day  an'  I  was  de  las'  one  up !  'f  I 
didn't  race  dat  maih's  tail  clean  off.  I  'low  I  made  hit  do  a  lot 
o'  switchin'.  An'  aftah  dat  my  wife  Mandy  she  ma'ed  me.  Hyah, 
hyah,  I  ain't  bin  much  on  liol'iu'  de  reins  sence. 

"Sh !  dey  comin'  in  to  wa'm  up.  Dat  Jim,  dat  Jim,  dat  my 
boy;  you  nasty,  putrid  little  raskil.  Des  a  hundred  an'  eight,  suh, 
des  a  hundred  an'  eight.  Yas,  suh,  dat's  my  Jim;  I  don'  know 
whaih  he  gits  bis  dev'ment  at. 

"What's  de  raattah  wid  dat  boy?  Whyn't  he  hunch  hisse'f  up 
on  dat  saddle  right?  Jim,  Jim,  whyn't  you  limber  up,  boy; 
hunch  yo'sef  up  on  dat  boss  lak  you  belonged  to  him  and  knowed 
you  was  dab.  What  I  done  showed  you?  De  black  raskil,  goin' 
out  dab  tryin'  to  disgrace  his  own  daddy.  Hyeah  he  come  back. 
Dat's  bettah,  you  scoun'rU. 


HUMOROUS    HITS  37 

"Dat's  a  right  smaht-lookin'  boss  he's  a-ridin',  but  I  ain't  a- 
trustin'  dat  bay  wid  de  white  feet — dat  is,  not  altogethah.  She's 
a  favourwright,  too;  but  dey's  sumpin'  else  in  dis  woi'l'  sides 
pi  ay  in'  favourwrights.  Jim  battah  had  win  dis  race.  His  boss 
ain't  a  five  to  one  shot,  but  I  spec's  to  go  way  fum  hyeah  wid 
money  ernuff  to  mek  a  donation  on  de  pa'sonage. 

"Does  I  bet?  Well,  I  don'  des  call  hit  bettin';  but  I  resks  a 
little  w'en  I  t'inks  I  kin  he'p  de  cause.  'Tain't  gamblin',  o'  co'se; 
I  wouldn't  gamble  fu  nothin',  dough  my  ol'  Mastah  did  ust  to 
say  dat  a  hones'  gamblah  was  ez  good  ez  a  hones'  preachah  an' 
mos'  nigh  ez  skace. 

"Look  out  dab,  man,  dey's  off,  dat  nasty  bay  maih  wid  de  white 
feet  leadin'  right  fum  de  pos'.  I  knowed  it !  I  knowed  it !  I 
had  my  eye  on  huh  all  de  time.  0  Jim,  Jim,  why  didn't  you 
git  in  bettah,  way  back  dab  fouf?  Dab  go  de  gong!  I  knowed 
dat  wasn't  no  staht.     Troop  back  dab,  you  raskils,  hyah,  byah. 

"I  wush  day  boy  wouldn't  do  so  much  jummyin  erroun'  wid 
day  boss.  Fust  t'ing  he  know  he  ain't  gwine  to  know  whaih 
he's  at. 

"Dab,  dab  dey  go  ag'in.  Hit's  a  sho'  t'ing  dis  time.  Bettah, 
Jim,  bettah.  Dey  didn't  leave  you  dis  time.  Hug  dat  bay  maih, 
hug  her  close,  boy.  Don't  press  dat  boss  yit.  He  holdin'  back 
a  lot  o'  t'ings. 

"He's  gainin' !  doggone  my  cats,  he's  gainin' !  an'  dat  boss  o' 
his'n  g-wine  des  ez  stiddy  ez  a  rockin' -chair.  Jim  alius  was  a 
good  bo}^ 

"Counfound  these  spec's,  I  cain't  see  'em  skacely;  huh,  you 
say  dey's  neck  an'  neck ;  now  I  see  'em !  and  Jimmy's  a-ridin' 
like Huh,  huh,  I  laik  to  said  sumpin'. 

"De  bay  maih's  done  hub  bes',  she's  done  huh  bes' !  Dey's 
turned  into  the  stretch  an'  still  see-sawin'.  Let  him  out,  Jimmj^, 
let  him  out !  Dat  boy  done  th'owed  de  reins  away.  Come  on, 
Jimmy,  come  on !  He's  leadin'  by  a  nose.  Come  on,  I  tell  you, 
you  black  rai)scallion,  come  on !  Give  'em  hell,  Jimmy !  give  'em 
hell !  Under  de  wire  an'  a  len'th  ahead.  Doggone  my  cats !  wake 
me  up  w'en  dat  othah  boss  comes  in. 

"No,  sub,  I  ain't  gwine  stay  no  longah — I  don't  app'ove  o' 
racin';  I's  gwine  'roun'  an'  see  dis  hyeah  bookmakah  an'  den  I's 


38  HUMOROUS    HITS 

gwine  dreekly  home,  suh,  dreckly  home.     I's  Baptis'  myse'f,  an' 
I  don't  app'ove  o'  no  sich  doin's !" 

Reprinted  by  permission  from  "  The   Heart  of  Happy  Hollow,"  Dodd,  Mead  & 
Company,  New  York. 


WHEN  THE  WOODBINE  TURNS  RED 

ANONYMOUS 

They  sat  in  a  garden  of  springing  flowers, 

In  a  tangle  of  woodland  ways; 
And  theirs  was  the  sweetest  of  summer  bowers, 

Where  they  passed  long  summer  days. 
But,  alas,  when  the  sunbeams  faded  away. 

And  those  brightest  of  days  had  fled 
'Neath  the  old  trysting  trees  they  parted  for  aye, 

When  the  woodbine  leaves  turned  red. 

When  the  woodbine  leaves  turned  red, 
And  their  last  farewell  was  said, 

They  swore  to  be  true,  as  all  lovers  do, 
When  the  woodbine  leaves  turn  red. 
She  gave  him  a  flower  sweet; 
They  vowed  they  Avould  surely  meet 

In  a  year  and  a  day;  tho  they  parted  for  aye 
When  the  woodbine  leaves  turned  red. 

They  met  in  the  garden  again  next  year. 

And  their  ways  had  been  far  ai)art. 
He  grasped  both  hands  with  a  sigh  and  a  tear. 

And  murmured,  "My  old  sweetheart, 
I  have  to  confess  it,  I  can't  mai-ry  you. 

For  already  have  I  been  wed." 
And  she  answered,  blushing,  "So  have  I,  too." 

And  the  woodbine  turned  red. 


HUMOROUS    HITS  39 

CUPID'S  CASUISTRY 
BY  W.   J.   I.AHIPTON 

We  were  sitting'  in  the  moonlight 
Of  a  radiant,  rosy  Jnne  ni^ht, 
When  I  whispered :  "Kitty,  don't  yoii 
Wish  I'd  kiss  you?    Let  me,  won't  you?" 

Kitty  was  a  rustic  maiden. 
And  I  thouglit  not  heavy  laden 
With  the  wisdom  of  the  ages 
Writ  on  eiiltnred  cupid's  pages. 

Kitty  answered :  "No,  I  mustn't 
Let  you  kiss  me :  my  ma  doesn't 
Think  it  proper  that  her  Kitty 
Be  like  maidens  in  the  city." 

"Oh!"  I  stammered.     Then  did  Kitty 
Whisper  in  a  tone  of  pity: 
"I  might  kiss  yon  and  be  true,  sir, 
To  my  mother;  would  that  do,  sir?" 


WHEN  MAH  LADY  YAWNS 

BY    CHARLES   T.    GRILLEY 

When  mah  Cah'line  yawns,  ah'm  'spicious 
Dat  she  tinks  de  time  po'pitious 

Fo'  me  to  tu'n  mah  'tention  to  de  clock  upon  de  wall. 
Dat's  de  cue  to  quit  mah  talkin'. 
An'  a  gentle  hint  dat  walkin' 

Would  flicitate  de  briefness  of  mah  call. 


40  HUMOROUS    HITS 

Th'  fus'  gal  that  ah  coh'ted 
Ouah  ma'idge  it  was  thwa'ted 

Because  ah  was  so  green  ah  didn'  know. 
When  she  yawns  it  was  behoovin' 
Dat  dis  dahkey  should  be  movin', 

Twell  at  las'  she  says,  *To  Lawd's  sake,  niggah,  go!" 

Den  ah  took  mah  hat  an'  stah'ted, 
An  f'om  dat  hour  we  pah'ted, 

An  ah  nevah  seen  dat  cuUud  gal  no  mo'. 
But  it  taught  me  dis  yer  lesson 
Dat  a  yawn  am  de  expression 

Dat  invites  yo'  to  be  movin'  to'ards  de  do'. 

So  take  dis  friendly  wah'nin', — 
Should  yo'  lady  love  stah't  yawnin' 

Altho  de  sudden  pah'ting  cost  yo'  pain, 
If  she's  one  you'd  like  t'  marry, 
Aftah  one  good  yawn  don'  tarry, 

Den  yo  sho'ly  will  be  welcome  da  again. 


WATCHIN'   THE    SPARKIN' 

BY  FRED  EMERSON   BROOKS 

Say,  Jim.  ye  wanter  see  the  fun? 

Jemimy's  sparkin's  jess  begun ! 

Git  deown — this  box  won't  hold  but  one 

Far  peekin'  through  the  winder ! 
Yeou  stay  down  thar  jess  whar  ye  be; 
I'll  tell  ye  all  thar  is  to  sec; 
Then  you'll  enjoy  it  well  as  me; 

An'  deon't  yeou  try  to  hinder! 


HUMOROUS    HITS  41 

That  teacliei'  is  the  dumbdest  goose 
That  Cupid  ever  turned  eout  loose; 
His  learuiu'  hain't  no  sort  o'  use 

In  sparkin'  our  Jemimy! 
Tho  peekin's  'ginst  the  golden  reule, 
He  told  us  t'other  day  in  seheool 
To  watch  hiiu  close;  so  git  a  steool 

An'  stand  up  here  close  by  me. 


Neow  he's  got  suthin'  in  his  head 
That  somehow  ruther's  gotter  be  said; 
Keeps  hitchin'  up,  an'  blushin'  red, 

With  one  leg  over  t'other. 
He  wants  to  do  the  thing  up  breown. 
Wall,  he's  the  biggest  gawk  in  teown: 
Showin'  her  pictur's  upside  deown; 

An'  she  don't  know  it  nuther ! 


He's  got  his  arm  areound  her  chair, 
And  wonders  if  she'll  leave  it  there. 
But  she  looks  like  she  didn't  care! 

I'll  bet  he's  go  in'  to  kiss  'er; 
He's  gittin'  closer  to  her  face, 
An'  piekin'  out  the  softest  place, 
An'  sort  o'  measurin'  otf  the  space, 

Jess  so  as  not  to  miss  'er. 


If  she'd  git  mad,  an'  box  his  ear, 
'Twould  knock  his  plans  clean  out  o'  gear, 
An'  set  him  back  another  year; 

But  she  ain't  goin'  to  do  it : 
She  thinks  the  teacher's  jess  tip-top, 
An'  she  won't  let  no  chances  drop ; 
If  ever  he  sets  in  to  pop, 

She's  goin'  to  pull  him  through  it! 


42  HUMOROUS    HITS 

I  gum !  an'  if  he  ain't  the  wust ! 
Waitin'  fer  her  to  kiss  him  fust! 
He's  go'n'  to  do  it  neow  er  bu'st: 

He's  makin'  preparation ! 
Neow  watch  him  steppin'  on  her  toes — 
That's  jess  to  keep  her  down,  I  s'pose. 
Wall,  thar,  he's  kissed  her  on  the  nose! 

So  much  fer  edecation! 

By  permission  of  Messrs.  Forbes  &  Co.,  Cliicago. 


THE  WAY  OF  A  WOMAN 

BY   BYRON    W.    KING 

It  was  the  last  night  before  leap-year;  it  was  the  last  hour  be- 
fore leap-year ;  in  fact,  the  minute-hand  had  moved  round  the  dial 
face  of  the  clock  until  it  registered  fifteen  minutes  of  twelve, — 
fifteen  minutes  of  leap-year.  John  and  Mary  were  seated  in 
Mary's  father's  parlor.  There  was  plenty  of  furniture  there  but 
they  were  using  only  a  limited  portion  of  it.  John  watched  the 
minute-hand  move  round  the  dial  face  of  the  clock  until,  like  the 
finger  of  destiny,  it  registered  fifteen  minutes  of  twelve, — fifteen 
minutes  of  leap-year,  when  he  gasped  hai'd,  clutched  his  coat 
collar,  and  said, — 

"Mary,  in  just  fifteen  minutes,  Mary, — fifteen  minutes  by  that 
clock,  Mary, — another  year,  Mary, — like  the  six  thousand  years 
that  have  gone  before  it,  Mary, — will  have  gone  into  the  great 
Past  and  be  forgotten  in  oblivion,  Mary, — and  I  want  to  ask  you, 
Mary, — to-night,  Maiy, — on  this  sofa,  Mary, — if  for  the  next  six 
thousand  years, — Mary ! !  I " 

''John,"  she  said  with  a  winning  smile,  "you  seem  very  much 
excited,  Jolni, — can  I  do  anything  to  help  you,  John?" 

"Just  sit  still,  Mai-y, — just  sit  still.  In  just  twelve  minutes, 
Mary, — twelve  minutes  by  this  clock,  Mary, — like  the  six  thou- 
sand clocks  that  have  gone  before  it,  Mary, — will  be  forgotten, 
Mary, — and  I  want  to   ask  this  clock,  Mary, — to-night,  on   this 


HUMOROUS    HITS  43 

sofa,  Mary, — if  when  we've  been  forgotten  six  thousand  times, 
Mary, — in  oblivion,  Mary, — and  six  thousand  sofas,  Mary  ! ! " 

"John,"  she  said,  more  smilingly  than  ever,  "you  seem  quite 
nervous;  would  you  lilce  to  see  father?" 

"Not  for  the  world,  Mary,  not  for  the  world!  In  just  eight 
minutes,  IMaiy, — eight  minutes  by  that  awful  clock,  we'll  be  for- 
gotten, Mary, — and  I  want  to  ask  six  thousand  fathers,  Mary, — 
if  when  this  sofa,  Mary, — has  been  forgotten  six  thousand  times, 
Mary, — in  six  thousand  oblivions, — I  want  to  ask  six  thousand 
Marys  six  thousand  times,  Mary  ! ! ! ! " 

"John,"  she  said,  "you  don't  seem  very  well.  Would  you  like 
a  glass  of  water?" 

"Mary, — in  just  three  minutes,  Mary, — three  minutes  by  that 
dreadful  clock,  Mary, — well  be  forgotten,  Mary, — six  thousand 
times, — and  I  want  to  ask  six  thousand  sofas,  Mary, — if  when 
six  thousand  oblivions  have  forgotten  six  thousand  fathers  in  six 
thousand  years,  I  want  to  ask  six  thousand  Marys,  six  thousand 
tunes,  Mary ! ! ! ! " 

Bang!  the  clock  struck.  It  was  leap-year.  The  clock  struck 
twelve  and  Maiy  turnuag  to  John,  sweetly  said : 

"John,  it's  leap-year;  will  you  marry  me?" 

"Yes ! ! !" 

Gentlemen,  there  is  no  use  talking,  the  way  of  a  woman  beats 
you  all. 


THE   YACHT    CLUB    SPEECH 

ANONYMOUS 

Mr.  Chairman — a — a — a — Mr.  Commodore — heg  pardon — I  as- 
sure you  that  until  this  moment  I  had  not  the  remotest  expecta- 
tion that  I  should  be  called  upon  to  reply  to  this  toast.  (Pauses, 
turns  round,  pulls  MS.  out  of  pocket  and  looks  at  it.)  Therefore 
I  must  beg  of  you,  Mr.  Captain — a — a — Mr,  Commatam — a — a — 
Mr. — Mr.  Cappadore — that  you  will  pardon  the  confused  nature 
of  these  remarks,  being  as  they  must  necessarily  be  altogether 
impromptu  and  extempore,  (Pauses,  turns  round  and  looks  at 
MS.)     But  Mr.  Bos'an— a— a— Mr.  Bosadore— I  feel— I  feel  even 


44  HUMOEOUS    HITS 

in  these  few  confused  expromptu  and  inlempore — intomplu  and 
exprempore — extemplu  and  imprenipore — exprompore  remarks 
— I  feel  that  I  can  say  in  the  words  of  the  poet,  words  of  the 
poet — poet — I  feel  that  I  can  say  in  the  words  of  the  poet — of 
the  poet — poet,  and  in  these  few  confused  remarks — in  the  words 
of  the  poet — (turns  round,  looks  at  MS.) — I  feel  that  I  can  say 
in  the  words  of  the  i)oet  that  I  feel  my  heart  swell  within  me. 
Now  Mr.  Capasun,  Mr.  Commasun,  why  does  my  heart  swell 
within  me — in  the  few  confused — why  does  my  heart  swell  within 
me — swell  within  me — swell  within  me — what  makes  my  heart 
swell  within  me — why  does  it  swell — swell  within  me  ?  ( Turns  round 
and  looks  at  3IS.)  Why,  Mr,  Cappadore — look  at  George  Wash- 
ington— what  did  he  do? — in  the  few  confused (Strikes  dra- 
matic attitude  with  swelled  chest  and  outstretched  arm,  loreparing 
for  burst  of  eloquence  which  will  not  come.)  He — huh — he — huh 
— he — huh — (turns  round  and  looks  at  MS.) — he  took  his  stand 
upon  the  ship  of  state — he  stood  upon  the  maintopgallant-jib- 
boomsail  and  reefed  the  quivering  sail — and  when  the  storms  were 
waging  riklly  round  to  wi-eek  his  fragile  bark,  through  all  the 
liowling  tempest  he  guided  her  in  safety  into  the  harbor  of  perdi- 
tion— a — a — a — into  the  haven  of  safety.  And  what  did  he  do 
then?  What  did  he  do  then?  What  did  he  do  then?  He— he— he 
—  (looks  at  MS.) — there  he  stood.  And  then  his  grateful  country- 
men gathered  round  him — they  gathered  round  George  Washing- 
ton— they  jilaced  him  on  the  summit  of  the  cipadel — their  capadol 
— they  held  him  up  before  the  eyes  of  the  assembled  woiid — 
around  his  brow  they  placed  a  never-dying  wreath — and  then  in 

thunder  tones  which  all  the  world  might  hear (Flourishes  MS. 

before  his  face,  notices  it  and  sits  down  in  great  confusion.) 


MAMMY'S    LI'L'   BOY 

BY    71.    S.    EDWARDS 

Who  all  time  dodgin'  en  de  cott'n  en  de  corn"? 

Mammy's  li'l'  boy,  mammy's  li'l'  boy! 
Who  all  time  stealm'  ole  massa's  dinner-horn? 

Mammy's  li'l'  baby  boy. 


HUMOROUS   HITS  45 

Byo  baby  boy,  oli  bye, 
By-o  li'F  boy ! 
Oh,  run  ter  es  mammy 
En  she  tek  'im  in  'er  anus, 
Mammy's  liT  baby  boy. 

Who  all  time  rimnin'  ole  gobble  roun'  de  yard? 

Mammy's  li'l'  boy,  mammy's  li'l'  boy ! 
Who  tek  'e  stick  'n  hit  ole  possum  dog  so  hard? 

Mammy's  li'l'  baby  boy. 

Byo  baby  boy,  oh  bye, 
By-o  li'l'  boy ! 
Oh,  run  ter  es  mammy 
En  climb  up  en  'er  lap, 
Mammy's  li'l'  baby  boy. 

Who  all  time  stumpin'  es  toe  ergin  er  rock? 

Mammy's  li'l'  boy,  mammy's  li'l'  boy ! 
Who  all  ticae  er-rippin'  big  hole  en  es  frock? 

Mammy's  li'l'  baby  boy. 

Byo  baby  boy,  oh  bye, 
By-o  li'l'  boy ! 
Oh,  run  ter  es  mammy 
En  she  wipe  es  li'l'  eyes. 
Mammy's  li'l'  baby  boy. 

Who  all  time  er-losin'  de  shovel  en  de  rake? 

Mammy's  li'l'  boy,  mammy's  li'l'  boy ! 
Who  all  time  tryin'  ter  ride  'e  lazy  drake? 

Ma'imiy's  li'l'  baby  boy. 

Byo  baby  boy,  oh  bye, 
By-o  li'l'  boy ! 
Oh,  scoot  fer  yer  mammy 
En  she  hide  yer  f 'om  yer  ma, 
Mammy's  li'l'  baby  boy. 


46  IIUMOEOUS    HITS 

Who  all  time  er-trottin'  ter  dc  kitchen  fer  er  bite? 

Mammy's  li'l'  boy,  mammy's  li'l'  boy! 
Who  mess  'esef  wi'  tatcrs  twell  his  clothes  dey  look  er  sight? 

Mammy's  li'l'  baby  boy. 

Byo  baby  boy,  oh  bye, 

By-o,  li'l  boy! 

En  'e  run  ter  es  mammy 

Fer  ter  git  'im  out  er  trouble, 

Mammy's  li'l'  baby  boy. 

Who  all  time  er-frettin'  en  de  middle  er  de  day? 

Mammy's  li'l'  boy,  mammy's  li'l'  boy ! 
Who  all  time  er-gettin'  so  sleepy  'e  can't  play? 

Mammy's  li'l'  baby  boy. 

Byo  baby  boy,  oh  bye, 
By-o  li'l'  boy ! 
En  'e  come  ter  es  mammy 
Ter  rock  'im  en  'er  arms, 
Mammy's  li'l'  baby  boy. 
Shoo,  shoo,  shoo-shoo-shoo, 
Shoo,  shoo,  shoo ! 

Shoo,  shoo,  shoo-shoo-shoo, 
Shoo,  li'l'  baby,  shoo  ! 
Shoo,  shoo,  shoo-shoo-shoo, 
Shoo,  shoo,  shoo, 
Shoo 

Deir  now,  lay  riglit  down  on  mammy's  bed  en  go  'long  back 
ter  sleep, — shoo-shoo  I 

Reprinted  by  permission 


HUMOROUS    HITS  47 

CORYDON 

BY  THOMAS   BAILEY   ALDRICH 

Shepherd 
Good  sii',  have  you  seen  pass  this  way 
A  mischief  straight  from  market-day? 
You'd  know  her  at  a  glance,  I  think; 
Her  eyes  are  blue,  her  lips  are  pink; 
She  has  a  way  of  looking  back 
Over  her  shoulder,  and,  alack ! 
Who  gets  that  look  one  time,  good  sir, 
Has  naught  to  do  but  follow  her. 

Pilgrim 

I  have  not  seen  this  maid,  methinks, 
The  she  that  passed  had  lips  like  pinks. 

Shepherd 
Or  like  two  strawberries  made  one 
By  some  sly  trick  of  dew  and  sun. 

Pilgrim 
A  poet! 

Shepherd 
Nay,  a  simple  swain 
That  tends  his  flock  on  yonder  plain, 
Naught  else,  I  swear  by  book  and  bell. 
But  she  that  passed — you  marked  her  well. 
Was  she  not  smooth  as  any  be 
That  dwell  herein  in  Arcady? 

Pilgrim 

Her  skin  was  as  the  satin  bark 
Of  birches. 


48 


HUMOEOUS    HITS 
Shepherd 


Light  or  dark? 
Quite  dark. 


Pilgrim 


Shepherd 
Then  't  was  not  she. 

Pilgrim 
The  peach's  side 
That  gets  the  sun  is  not  so  dyed 
As  was  her  cheek.    Her  hair  hung  down 
Like  summer  twilight  falling  brown ; 
And  when  the  breeze  swept  by,  I  wist 
Her  face  was  in  a  somber  mist. 

Shepherd 
No,  that  is  not  the  maid  I  seek, — 
Her  hair  lies  gold  against  the  cheek; 
Her  yellow  tresses  take  the  morn 
Like  silken  tassels  of  the  corn. 
And  yet — brown  locks  are  far  from  bad. 

Pilgrim 
Now  I  bethink  me,  this  one  had 
A  figure  like  the  willow  tree 
Which,  slight  and  supple,  wondrously 
Inclines  to  droop  with  pensive  grace, 
And  still  retains  its  proper  place; 
A  foot  so  ai'ched  and  very  small 
The  marvel  Avas  she  walked  at  all ; 
Her  hand — in  sooth  I  lack  the  words — 
Her  hand,  five  slender  snow-white  birds; 
Her  voice — tho  she  but  said  "Godspeeds- 
Was  melody  blown  tlu'ough  a  reed; 
The  girl  Pan  changed  into  a  pipe 
Had  not  a  note  so  full  and  ripe. 


IIUMOKOUS    HITS  49 


And  her  eye — my  lad,  her  eye ! 
Discreet,  inviting,  candid,  shy, 
An  outward  ice,  an  inward  fire. 
And  lashes  to  the  heart's  desire — 
Soft  fringes  blacker  than  the  sloe. 


'to"- 


Shepherd — thoujht  fully 
Good  sir,  which  way  did  this  one  go? 

•  •••••• 

Pilgrim — solus 
So,  he  is  off !  the  silly  youth 
Knoweth  not  Love  in  sober  sooth. 
He  loves — thus  lads  at  first  are  blind — 
No  woman,  only  womankind. 

From  the  Poems  of  Thomas  Bailey  Aldrich,  Household  Edition,  by  permission  of 
Messrs.  Houghton,  Mifflin  &  Co. 


GIB   HIM    ONE    UB   MINE 

BY  DANIEL  WEBSTER  DAVIS 

A  little  urchin,  ragged,  black. 

An  old  cigar  "stump"  found, 
And  visions  of  a  jolly  smoke, 

Began  to  hover  'round. 
But  finding  that  he  had  no  match, 

A  big  store  he  espied. 
And  straightway  for  it  made  a  dash 

To  have  his  wants  supplied. 

"I  have  no  match !"  the  owner  said, 

''And,  even  if  I  do, 
I  have  no  match,  you  understand, 

For  such  a  thing  as  you !" 


50  HUMOEOUS    HITS 

Down  in  the  ragged  pantaloons, 
The  little  black  hand  went, 

^d  forth  it  came,  now  holding  fast 
A  big  old-fashioned  cent. 

*'Gib  me  a  box,"  the  urchin  said, 

His  bosom  tilled  with  joy; 
And  calmly  lighted  his  "cigar," 

A  radiant  happy  boy. 
Then  handing  back  the  box,  he  said. 

As  his  face  with  pride  did  shine : 
*'Nex'  time  a  gent'mun  wants  a  match, 

Jes'  gib  him  one  ub  mine !" 


A  LESSON   WITH   THE   FAN 

ANONYMOUS 

If  you  want  to  learn  a  lesson  with  the  fan, 
I'm  quite  jorepared  to  teach  you  all  I  can. 
So  ladies,  everyone,  pray  observe  how  it  is  done, 
This  simple  little  lesson  with  the  fan ! 

If  you  chance  to  be  invited  to  a  ball, 

To  meet  someone  you  don't  expect  at  all, 

And  you  want  him  close  beside  you,  while  a  dozen  friends  divide 

Well,  of  course — it's  most  unladylike  to  call. 

So  you  look  at  liim  a  minute,  nothing  more. 

And  you  cast  your  eyes  dennirely  on  the  floor, 

Then  you  wave  your  fan,  just  so,  well — toward  you,  don't  you 

know, — 
It's  a  delicate  suggestion, — nothing  more! 


HUMOKOUS    HITS  51 

When  you  see  him  coming-  to  you  (simple  you), 

Oh !  be  very,  very  careful  what  you  do ; 

With  your  fan  just  idly  play,  and  look  down,  as  if  to  say 

It's  a  matter  of  indifference  to  you ! 

Then  you  flutter  and  you  fidget  with  it,  so ! 

And  you  hide  your  little  nose  behind  it  low, 

Till,  when  he  begins  to  speak,  you  just  lay  it  on  your  cheek, 

In  that  fascinating  manner  that  you  know! 

And  when  he  tells  the  old  tale  o'er  and  o'er. 

And  vows  that  he  will  love  you  evermore, — 

Gather  up  your  little  fan,  and  secure  him  while  you  can, — 

It's  a  delicate  suggestion, — nothing  more ! 


THE  UNDERTOW 

BY  CARRIE  BLAKE  MORGAN 

You  hadn't  ought  to  blame  a  man  fer  things  he  hasn't  done 
Fer  books  he  hasn't  written  or  fer  fights  he  hasn't  won ; 
The  waters  may  look  placid  on  the  surface  all  aroun', 
Yet  there  may  be  an  undertow  a-keepin'  of  him  down. 

Since  the  days  of  Eve  and  Adam,  when  the  fight  of  life  began, 
It  aint  been  safe,  my  brethren,  fer  to  lightly  judge  a  man; 
He  may  be  tryin'  faithful  fer  to  make  his  life  a  go. 
And  yet  his  feet  git  tangled  in  the  treacherous  undertow. 

He  may  not  lack  in  learnin'  and  he  may  not  want  fer  brains; 
He  may  be  always  workin'  with  the  patientest  of  pains. 
And  yet  go  unrewai'ded,  an',  my  friends,  how  can  we  know 
What  heights  he  might  have  climbed  to  but  fer  the  undertow? 


52  HUMOROUS    HITS 

You've  heard  the  Yankee  story  of  the  hen's  nest  with  r  hole, 
An'  how  the  lien  kept  layin'  eggs  with  all  her  might  an'  soul, 
Yet  never  got  a  settm',  not  a  single  egg,  I  trow; 
That  hen  was  simply  kickin'  'gainst  a  hidden  undertow. 

There's  holes  in  lots  of  hen's  nests,  an'  you've  got  to  peep  below 
To  see  the  eggs  a-rollm'  where  they  hadn't  ought  to  go. 
Don't  blame  a  man  fer  f ailin'  to  achieve  a  laurel  crown 
Until  you're  sure  the  undertow  aint  draggin'  of  him  down. 


MARKETING 

ANONYMOUS 

A  little  girl  goes  to  market  for  her  mother. 

Butcher. — "Well,  little  girl,  what  can  I  do  for  you?" 

Little  Girl. — "How  much  is  chops  this  morning,  mister?" 

B. — "Chops,  20  cents  a  pound,  little  girl." 

L.  G. — "Oh !  20  cents  a  pound  for  chops;  that's  awful  expensive. 
How  much  is  steak?" 

B. — "Steak  is  22  cents  a  pound." 

L.  G. — "That's  too  much!     How  much  is  chicken?" 

B. — "Chicken  is  25  cents  a  pound"  {impatiently) . 

L.  G. — "Oh !  25  cents  for  chicken.  Well  my  ma  don't  want  any 
of  them !" 

5.— "Well,  little  girl,  what  do  you  want  f 

L.  G. — "Oh,  I  want  an  automobile,  but  my  ma  wants  5  cents' 
worth  of  liver!" 


A  SPRING  IDYL  ON  "GRASS" 

BY  NIXON  WATEIRMAN 

Oh,  the  gentle  grass  is  growing 
In  the  vale  and  on  the  hill; 

[We  can  not  hear  it  growing, 
Still  'tis  growing  very  still : 


HUMOROUS    HITS  53 

And  in  the  spring  it  springs  to  life, 

With  gladness  and  delight; 
I  see  it  growing  day  by  day, — 

It  also  grows  by  night. 
And,  now,  once  more  as  mowers  whisk 

The  whiskers  from  the  lawn, 
They'll  rouse  us  from  our  slumbers, — 

At  the  dawning  of  the  dawn : 
It  saddens  my  poor  heart  to  think 

What  we  should  do  for  hay, 
If  grass  instead  of  growing  up 

Would  grow  the  other  way. 
It's  present  rate  of  growing, 

Makes  it  safe  to  say  that  soon, 
'Twill  cover  all  the  hills  at  moru 

And  in  the  afternoon. 
And  I  have  often  noticed 

As  I  watched  it  o'er  and  o'er, 
It  grows,  and  grows,  and  grows,  awhile, 

And  then  it  grows  some  more, — 
If  it  keeps  growing  right  along 

It  shortly  will  be  tall; 
It  hum^DS  itself  thro'  strikes, 

And  legal  holidays  and  all; 
It's  growing  up  down  all  the  streets; 

And  clean  around  the  square; 
One  end  is  growing  in  the  ground, 

The  other  in  the  air: 
If  the  earth  possest  no  grass 

Methinks  its  beauty  would  be  dead ; 
We'd  have  to  make  the  best  of  it, 

And  use  baled  hay  instead. 

From  "A  Book  of  Verses,"  by  permission  of  Forbes  &  Co.,  Chicago. 


54  HUMOROUS    HITS 

INTRODUCIN'  THE  SPEECHER 

BY  EDWIN   L.   BARKER 

Introductory  Remarks.  This  selection  is  a  little  caricature, 
introducing  two  characters.  "The  Speedier"  is  one  of  those  young 
men  who  has  passed  through  college  in  one  year, — passed  through, 
— and  has  increasing  difficulty  in  finding  a  hat  large  enough  to  fit 
his  head.  His  oratorical  powers  have  been  praised  by  his  friends, 
and  he  never  misses  an  opportunity  to  exhibit  his  "great  natural 
talent."  "The  Chainnan"  is  frequently  met  in  the  smaller  towns. 
He  has  lived  there  a  long  time,  is  acquainted  with  everybody, 
makes  it  a  point  to  fonn  the  acquaintance  of  all  newcomers,  takes 
an  interest  in  public  affairs,  and  is  often  called  upon  to  introduce 
the  speakers  who  visit  the  town.  His  principal  weakness  is  that 
in  the  course  of  his  introductory  remarks  he  usually  says  more 
than  the  speaker  himself. 

The  Chairman.  {Comes  forward  to  table  at  center,  stands  at 
right,  looks  nervously  at  audience,  goes  to  left  of  table,  does  not 
know  what  to  do  ivith  hands,  returns  to  right  of  table,  begins  in 
high,  nervous  voice.)  "Gentlemen  an'  ladies — an'  the  rest  on  ye — 
(goes  left  of  table)  I  s'pose  ye  all  knowed  afore,  as  per'aps  ye 
do  now,  that  I  did  not  come  out  to  make  a  speech;  but  to — to 
'nounce  the  speedier.  Now,  the  speecher  has  jes  come,  an'  is 
right  in  there.  (Points  with  thumb  over  shoulder  to  L.  and  goes 
R.  of  table.)  I  don't  know  wh}'^  'twas  they  called  on  me  to  'nounce 
the  speecher,  unless  it  is  that  I've  lived  here  in  your  midst  fer  a 
long  whUe,  an'  am  'quainted  with  vei-y  nigh  every  one  fer  four 
or  five  miles  about,  an'  I  s'pose  that's  why  they  called  on  me  to — 
to  'nounce  the  speecher.  Now,  the  speedier  is — right  in  there. 
{Points  L.  and  goes  L.)  I  s'pose  I'm  as  well  cale'lated  to  'nounce 
the  speecher  as  any  on  ye,  an'  I  s'pose  that's  why  I'm  here  to — 
to  'nounce  the  speecher.  Now,  the  speecher  is — right  in  there. 
{Points  L.  and  goes  B.)  You  know  I've  lived  here  in  your  midst  a 
long  time,  an'  have  alius  tuk  an  active  part  in  all  public  affairs, 
an'  I  s'pose  that's  why  they  called  on  me  to — to  'nounce  the 
speecher.     Now,  the  speecher  is  right  in  there.     {Points  L.  and 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  55 

goes  L.)  As  I  said  once  afore,  I've  lived  here  in  your  midst  fer 
a  long  time,  an'  have  alius  tuk  active  part  in  all  public  affairs, 
an'  public  doin's  ginerally.  Ye  know  I  was  'pin ted  tax  collector 
once,  an'  was  road-overseer  fer  a  little  while,  an'  run  fer  constable 
of  this  here  township — but  I — I  didn't  git  it.  (Quickly.)  Now, 
the  speecher  is — right  there.  {Points  L.  and  goes  R.  Wipes  fore- 
head tuith  handkerchief.)  I  jes  want  to  say  a  word  to  the  young 
men  this  evenin' — as  I  see  quite  a  sprinklin'  of  'em  here — an' 
that  is  that  I'd  like  fer  all  the  young  men  to  grow  up  an'  hold 
high  and  honorable  offices  like  I've  done.  But  there,  I  can't  stop 
any  longer,  'cause  the  speecher  is — right  in  there.  {Starts  to  go, 
hut  returns.)  Now,  I  don't  want  you  to  think  I  don't  want  to 
talk  to  ye,  fer  I  do.  I  do  so  like  to  talk  to  the  young  men,  an'  the 
old  men,  an'  them  that  ai-e  not  men.  {Smiles.)  I  love  to  talk  to 
ye.  But,  of  course,  I  can't  talk  to  you  now,  'cause  the  speecher 
is — right  in  there.  {Points  L.)  But  some  other  time  when  the 
speecher's  not  here — I  think  there'll  be  a  time  afore  long — why, 
I'll  talk  to  you.  {Groics  confused.)  Of  course,  you  know,  I'd 
talk  to  you  now;  but — uh — that  is — I  think  there'll  be  a  time 
afore  long — at  some  other — you  know — I — you — the — {desper- 
ately) the  speecher  is  right  in  there.  {Rushes  to  L.,  stops,  and 
with  back  to  audience,  concludes.)  I  will  now  interdoose  to  ye 
Charles  William  Albright,  of  Snigger's  Crossroads,  a  very  promisin' 
young  attorney  of  that  place,  who  will  talk  to  ye.  As  I  said  afore, 
the  speecher  is  right  in  here.  Now,  the  speecher  is  right  out  there." 
{While  standing  with  back  to  audience,  run  fingers  through  hair 
to  give  it  a  long,  scholarly  appearance,  put  on  glasses,  and  take 
from  chair  roll  of  piaper  and  place  under  arm.  To  be  elective, 
this  paper  should  be  about  one  foot  wide  and  ten  feet  long,  folded 
in  about  five  or  six-inch  folds.  At  conclusion  of  chairman's  speech, 
turn  and  walk  to  table  as  the  speecher.) 

The  Speecher.  {Walks  to  table  with  a  strut.  Face  should  have 
a  wise,  solemn,  self-satisfied  expression.  Stops  at  table,  surveys 
the  audience  with  solemn  dignity,  clears  the  throat,  lays  roll  of 
paper  on  table,  takes  out  handkerchief,  clears  throat,  wipes  mouth, 
smacks  lips,  lays  handkerchief  on  table,  surveys  audience  again, 
slowly  unrolls  paper  and  lays  on  table,  surveys  audience  again, 
clears  throat,  wipes  mouth,  smacks  lips,  poses  with  one  hand  on 


56  HUMOROUS    HITS 

table.)  ''Ladies — and — gentlemen — and  fellow  citizens.  {Rises  on 
toes  and  comes  hack  on  heels,  as  practised  by  some  public  speak- 
ers.) I  have  fully  realized  the  magnitude  of  this  auspicious  occa- 
sion, and  have  brought  from  out  the  archives  of  wisdom  one  of 
those  bright,  extemporaneous  subjects,  to  which,  you  know,  I  al- 
ways do  (rising  inflection)  ample  justice.  {Rises  on  toes,  clears 
throat,  applies  handkerchief  to  forehead.)  The  subject  for  this 
evening's  discussion  {very  solemn)  is  coal  oil.  {Clears  throat  and 
looks  wise.)  Now,  the  first  question  that  arises  is:  How  do  they 
get  it?  {In  measured  tone,  on  toes,  tapping  words  off  on  fingers 
of  left  hand  with  forefinger  of  right  hand.)  How — do — they — get 
— it?  {Soaringhj.)  My  dear  friends,  some  get  it  by  the  pint,  and 
some  by  the  quart.  {Clears  throat,  wipes  perspiration  from  fore- 
head.) But,  you  say,  how  do  they  get  it  in  the  first  place?  {Tragic- 
ally.) Ah,  my  dear  friends,  as  Horace  Greeley  has  so  fittingly  ex- 
prest  it — that  is  the  question.  {Quickly.)  But  I  will  explain.  When 
they  want  to  get  it  they  take  a  great,  mammoth  auger  {imitates) 
and  they  bore,  and  they  bore,  and  they  bore,  and — {looks  at  paper 
quickly) — and  they  bore!  And  when  they  strike  the  oil  it  just 
squirts  up.  That's  how  they  get  it!  {Rises  on  toes,  smacks  lips 
and  looks  wise.)  Noav,  you  all  know,  coal  oil  is  used  for  a  great 
many  things.  It  is  used  for  medicine,  to  burn  in  the  lamp,  to 
blow  up  servant  girls  when  they  make  a  fire  with  it,  and — many 
other  useful  things.  {Wipes  mouth  and  puts  handkerchief  in 
pocket.)  The  gentlemen  in  charge  will  now  pass  the  hat,  being 
careful  to  lock  the  door  back  there  so  that  none  of  those  boys 
from  Squeedunk  can  get  out  before  they  chip  in.  {Takes  paj^er 
and  rolls  it  up.)  I  will  say  that  I  expect  to  deliver  another  lecture 
here  two  weeks  from  to-night — two  weeks  from  to-night — upon 
which  occasion  I  would  like  to  see  all  the  children  present,  as  the 
subject  will  be  of  special  interest  to  {rises  on  toes,  closes  eyes)  the 
little  ones.  The  subject  on  that  occasion  will  be  'Will  We  Bust 
the  Trusts,  or  Will  the  Trusts  Bust  Us?' "  {Puts  roll  of  paper 
under  arm  and  stalks  off  as  if  having  captured  the  world.) 

As  recited  by  Edwin  L.  Barlcer  and  used  by  permission. 


HUMOKOUS    HITS  57 


COUNTING  ONE  HUNDRED 

BY   JAMES    M.    BAILEY 

A  Danbury  man  named  Reubens,  recently  saw  a  statement  tbat 
counting  one  hundred  when  tempted  to  speak  an  angry  word 
would  save  a  man  a  great  deal  of  trouble.  This  statement  sounded 
a  little  singular  at  lirst,  but  the  more  he  read  it  over  the  more 
favorably  he  became  imprest  with  it,  and  finally  concluded  to 
adopt  it. 

Next  door  to  Reubens  lives  a  man  who  made  five  distinct  at- 
tempts in  a  fortnight  to  secure  a  dinner  of  green  peas  by  the 
first  of  July,  but  has  been  retarded  by  Reubens'  hens.  The  next 
morning  after  Reubens  made  his  resolution,  this  man  found  his 
fifth  attempt  had  been  destroyed.  Then  he  called  on  Reubens, 
He  said : 

"What  in  thunder  do  you  mean  by  letting  your  hens  tear  up 
my  garden?" 

Reubens  was  prompted  to  call  him  various  names,  but  he  re- 
membered his  resolution,  put  down  his  rage,  and  meekly  said: 

"One,  two,  three,  four,  five,  six,  seven,  eight " 

The  mad  neighbor,  who  had  been  eyeing  this  answer  with  sus- 
picion, broke  in  again : 

"Why  don't  you  answer  my  question,  you  rascal?" 

But  still  Reubens  maintained  his  equanimity,  and  went  on  with 
the  test. 

"Nine,   ten,  eleven,  twelve,   thirteen,   fourteen,  fifteen,   sixteen 


The  mad  neighbor  stared  harder  than  ever. 

"Seventeen,  eighteen,  nineteen,  twenty,  twenty-one " 

"You're  a  mean  thief !"  said  the  mad  neighbor,  backing  toward 
the  fence. 

Reubens'  face  flushed  at  this  charge,  but  he  only  said : 
"Twenty-two,   twenty-three,    twenty-four,    twenty-five,    twenty- 
six " 

At  this  figure  the  neighbor  got  up  on  the  fence  in  some  haste, 
but  suddenly  thinking  of  his  peas,  he  said: 


58  HUMOROUS    HITS 

"You  mean,  conlemptible,  old  rascal !  I  oonld  knock  yonr  head 
against  my  bam  and  I'll " 

"Twenty-seven,  twenty-eight,  twenty-nine,  thirty,  thirty-one, 
thirty-two,  thirty-three " 

Here  the  neighbor  ran  for  the  house,  and  entering  it,  violently 
slammed  the  door  behind  him.  Reubens  did  not  let  up  on  the 
enumeration,  but  stood  out  there  alone  in  his  own  yard,  and  kept 
on  counting,  while  his  burning  cheeks  and  flashing  eyes  eloquently 
affirmed  his  judgment.  When  he  got  up  into  the  eighties  his  wife 
came  out  to  him  in  some  alarm. 

"Why,  Reubens,  man,  what  is  the  matter  with  you?  Do  come 
into  the  house." 

But  he  didn't  stop. 

"Eighty-seven,  eighty-eight,  eighty-nine,  ninety,  ninety-one, 
ninety-two " 

Then  she  came  to  him,  and  clung  tremblingly  to  him,  but  he 
only  turned,  looked  into  lier  eyes,  and  said : 

"Ninety-three,  ninety-four,  jiinety-five,  ninety-six,  ninety-seven, 
ninety-eight,  ninety-nine,  one  hundred !  Go  into  the  house,  old 
woman,  or  I'll  bust  you !" 


THEY   NEVER   QUARRELED 

ANONYMOUS 

They  had  been  married  about  three  weeks,  and  had  just  gone  to 
housekeeping.  He  was  starling  down  town  one  mornuig,  and  she 
followed  him  to  the  door.  They  had  their  anns  wrapt  around 
each  olher,  and  she  was  saying: 

"0  riai'ence,  do  you  think  it  possible  that  the  day  can  ever 
come  when  we  will  part  in  anger?" 

"Why,  no,  little  girl,  of  course  not.  What  put  that  foolish 
idea  into  my  little  birdie's  head,  eh?" 

"Oh,  nothing,  dearest.  I  was  only  thinking  how  perfectly 
dreadful  it  would  be  if  one  of  us  should  speak  harshlj'  to  the 
other." 

"Well,  don't  think  of  such  wicked,  utterly  impossible  things  any 
more.     We  can  never,  never,  never  quarrel." 


nUMOEOUS   HITS  59 

"I  know  it,  darling.  Good-by,  you  dear  old  preeioiis,  good-by. 
and — oh,  wait  a  second,  Clai-enee ;  I've  written  a  note  to  mamma : 
can't  you  run  around  to  the  house  and  leave  it  for  her  some  time 
to-day?" 

"Why,  yes,  dearie ;  if  I  have  time." 

'*'If  you  have  time?   0  Clarence!" 

"What  is  it,  little  girlie?" 

"Oh,  to  say  'if  you  have  time'  to  do  almost  the  very  first  en-and 
your  little  wife  asks  you  to  do." 

"Well,  well,  I  expect  to  be  very  busy  to-day." 

"Too  busy  to  please  me?  0  Clarence,  you  hurt  my  feel- 
ings so." 


"Why,  child,  I " 

"I'm  not  a  child,  I'm  a  married  woman,  and  I " 

"There,  there,  my  pet.    I " 

"No,  no,  Clarence,  if  I  were  your  p — p — pet  j^ou'd " 

"But,  Mabel,  do  be  reasonable." 

"0  Clarence !  don't  sjDeak  to  me  so." 

"Mable,  be  sensible,  and " 

"Go  on,  Clarence,  go  on;  break  my  heart." 

"Stuif  and  nonsense." 

"Oh!  o— o— o— o— oh!" 

"What  have  I  said  or  done?" 

"As  if  you  need  ask!  But  go — hate  me  if  you  will,  Clarence. 
I " 

"This  is  rank  nonsense !" 

"I'll  go  back  to  mamma  if  you  want  me  to.  She  loves  me,  if 
you  don't." 

"You  must  have  a  brain-storm !" 

"Oh !  yes,  sneer  at  me,  ridicule  me,  break  my  poor  heart.  Per- 
haps you  had  better  strike  me!" 

He  bangs  the  door,  goes  down  the  steps  on  the  jump,  and  races 
off,  muttering  something  about  women  being  the  "queerest 
creatures." 

Of  course,  they'll  make  it  up  when  he  comes  home,  and  they'll 
have  many  a  little  tiff  in  the  years  to  come,  and  when  they  grow 
old  they'll  say: 

"We've  lived  together  forty-five  years,  and  in  all  that  time  have 
never  spoken  a  cross  word  to  each  other.'" 


60  HUMOROUS    HITS 


SONG  OF  THE  "L" 

BY   GRENVILLE   KLEISER 

« 

Note — The  New  York  elevated  cars  tvere  so  overcrowded  at 
the  rush  hours  of  the  day  that  passengers  were  obliged  to  ride 
on  engines. 

Jam  them  in,  ram  them  in, 

People  still  a-coming, 
Slam  them  in,  cram  them  in, 

Keeji  the  thing  a-humming! 
Millionaires  and  cai'i)entcrs, 
Office  boys,  stenograi)hers, 
Workingmen  and  fakirs, 
Doctors,  undertakers, 
Brokers  and  musicians. 
Writers,  politicians, 
Clergymen  and  plumbers. 
Entry  clerks  and  drummers, 
Pack  them  in,  whack  them  in, 

People  still  a-coming! 

Mash  them  in,  crash  them  in. 

Still  there's  more  to  follow, 
Shoot  them  in,  boot  them  in, 

Don't  take  time  to  swallow ! 
Pretty  maid  and  tailor-made, 
Stylish  maid  and  home-made, 
Jersey  maid  and  I'eady-made 
House  maid  and  old  maid ! 
Billionaire  and  haughty  air, 
Bald  head  and  golden  hair, 
Always  there,  never  there, 
Ah  there  and  get  there ! 
Squeeze  them  in,  tease  them  in. 

Still  there's  more  to  follow. 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  61 

Bump  them  in,  thump  tliem  in, 

Why  do  people  worrj'? 
Throw  them  in,  blow  them  in, 

Everyone  must  hurry. 
Take  a  place  behind  the  gate. 
Get  your  clothes  prest  Avhile  you  wait. 
Grab  a  seat,  don't  give  a  rap 
For  the  lady  at  the  strap. 
If  your  life  is  spared  till  night 
You  can  tell  your  wife  all  right : 

How  the  gateman  shoved  them  in. 
Slammed  them  in,  jammed  them  in, 
Crammed  them  in,  damned  them  in, 
Blew  them  in,  cuffed  them  in. 
Fired  them  in,  kicked  them  in, 
Bumped  them  in,  thumped  them  in, 
Beat  them  in,  knocked  them  in. 
Rapped  them  in,  squashed  them  in, 
Rammed  them  hi,  Avhipped  them  in, 
Pushed  them  in,  banged  them  in, 
Crusht  them  in,  rushed  them  in, 
Dashed  them  in,  slashed  them  iii. 
Flung  them  in,  jerked  them  in. 
Tossed  them  in,  shied  them  in. 
Hauled  them  in,  forced  them  in. 
Whacked  them  in,  crowded  them  in, 
Prodded  them  in,  pulled  them  in, 
Dumped  them  in,  di'ove  them  in. 
Hammered  them  in,  battered  them  in, 
Pitched  them  in,  urged  them  in, 
Hustled  them  in,  bustled  them  in. 
Hurried  them  in,  won-ied  them  in, 
As  if  their  heads  were  hollow ! 


02  HUMOROUS  HITS 

THE  VILLAGE  ORACLE 

BY    J.    L.   HARBOUR 

"Why,  Mis'  Farley,  is  it  really  you?  It's  been  so  long  sence 
I  saw  you  that  I  hardly  knowed  you.  Come  in  an'  set  down.  I 
was  jest  a-wishin'  some  one  would  come  in.  I've  felt  so  kind  of 
downsy  all  raornin'.  I  reckon  like  enough  it  is  my  stummick. 
I  thought  some  of  goin'  to  see  old  Doctor  Ball  about  it,  but,  la,  I 
know  jest  what  he'd  say.  He'd  look  at  my  tongue  an'  saj'^, 
'Coffee/  an'  look  cross.  He  lays  half  the  mis'ry  o'  the  world  to 
coffee.  Says  it  is  a  rank  pizen  to  most  folks,  an'  that  lots  o'  the 
folks  now  wearin'  glasses  wouldn't  need  'em  if  they'd  let  coffee 
alone.  Says  it  Avorks  on  the  ocular  nerves  an'  all  that,  but  I 
reckon  folks  here  in  Granby  will  go  on  drinkin'  coffee  jest  the 
same. 

"You  won't  mind  if  I  keep  right  on  with  my  work,  will  you, 
seein'  that  it  ain't  nothin'  but  sewin'  carpet-rags'?  I've  got  to 
send  my  rags  to  the  weaver  this  week,  or  she  can't  weave  my 
carpet  until  after  she  comes  home  from  a  \dsit  she  'lows  on  makin' 
to  her  sister  over  in  Zoar.  It's  just  a  hit-er-miss  strip  o'  carpet 
I'm  makin'  for  my  small  south  chamber.  I  set  out  to  make  some- 
thin'  kind  o'  fancy  with  a  twisted  strip  an'  the  chain  in  five  col- 
ors, but  I  found  I  hadn't  the  right  kind  of  rags  to  cany  it  through 
as  I  wanted  to;  so  I  jest  decided  on  a  plain  hit-er-miss.  I  don't 
use  the  south  chamber  no  great  nohow.  It's  the  room  my  first 
husband  and  his  first  wife  and  sev'ral  of  his  kin  all  died  in;  so 
the  'soeiations  ain't  none  too  cheerin',  an'  I — I — s'pose  you  know 
about  Lyddy  Baxter  losin'  her  husband  last  week?  No?  Well, 
he's  went  the  way  o'  the  airth,  an'  Lyddy  wore  my  mournin'- 
veil  an'  gloves  to  the  funeral.  They're  as  good  as  they  were  the 
day  I  foUered  my  two  husbands  to  the  grave  in  'em.  When  a 
body  pays  two  dollars  an'  sixty-eight  cents  for  a  mournin'-veil, 
it  behooves  'em  to  take  keer  of  it,  an'  not  switch  it  out  wearin' 
it  common  as  Sally  Dodd  did  hern.  If  a  body  happens  to 
marry  a  second  time,  as  I  did,  a  mournin'-veil  may  come  in 
handy,  jest  as  .mine  did. 

"Yes,  Liddy's  husband  did  go  off  real  sudden.    It  was  this  new- 


HUMOROUS  HITS  63 

fashioned  trouble,  the  appendysheetus,  that  tuk  him  off.  They 
was  jest  gittin'  ready  to  op'rate  on  him  when  he  went  off  jest 
as  easy  as  a  glove.  There's  three  thousand  life-insurance;  so 
Lyddy  ain't  as  bereft  as  some  would  be.  Now,  if  she'll  only 
have  good  jedgemeut  when  she  gits  the  money,  an'  not  fool  it 
away  as  Mis'  Mack  did  her  husband's  life-insurance.  He  had 
only  a  thousand  dollars,  an'  she  put  half  of  it  on  her  back  be- 
fore three  months,  an'  put  three  hundred  into  a  pianuy  she 
couldn't  play.  She  said  a  pianny  give  a  house  seeh  an  air.  I 
up  an'  told  her  that  money  would  soon  be  all  'air'  if  she  didn't 
stop  foolin'  it  away. 

"I  wouldn't  want  it  told  as  comin'  from  me,  but  I've  heerd  that 
it  was  her  that  put  that  advertisement  in  the  paper  about  a  wid- 
der  with  some  means  wishui'  to  correspond  with  a  gentleman  sim- 
ilarly situated  with  a  view  to  matrimony.  I  reckon  she  had  about 
fifty  dollars  left  at  that  time.  I  tried  to  worm  somethuig  about 
it  out  of  the  postmaster;  for  of  course  he'd  know  about  her  mail, 
but  he  was  as  close  as  a  clam-shell.  I  reckon  one  has  to  be  kind 
of  discreet  if  one  is  postmaster,  but  he  might  of  known  that  any- 
thing he  told  me  wouldn't  go  no  farther  if  he  didn't  want  it  to. 
I  know  when  to  speak  an'  when  to  hold  my  tongue  if  anybody 
in  this  town  does. 

"Did  you  know  that  Myra  Dart  was  goin'  to  marry  that  Rylan 
chap?  It's  so.  I  got  it  from  the  best  authority.  An'  she's  nine 
years  an'  three  months  an'  five  days  older  than  him.  I  looked 
it  up  in  the  town  hist'ry.  It's  a  good  deal  of  a  reesk  for  a  man 
to  marry  a  woman  that's  much  older  than  he  is. 

"But,  my  land,  it's  a  good  deal  of  a  reesk  to  git  married  at 
all  nowadays.  You  never  know  what  you're  gittm'  ontil  it's  too 
late  to  undo  the  matter.  Seems  to  me  there  must  be  a  screw 
loose  somewhere,  or  matrimony  wouldn't  be  the  fizzle  it  is  in  so 
many  instances.  An'  it's  about  six  o'  one  an'  half  a  dozen  o'  the 
other  when  it  comes  to  dividin'  the  blame.  You  know  my  first 
husband  was  jestice  o'  the  peace  five  years,  an'  he  had  consid- 
dable  marryin'  to  do,  an'  I  saw  a  good  deal  o'  what  loose  idees 
some  people  had  about  matrimony. 

"I  recollect  of  one  couple  comin'  in  to  git  married  one  evenin'. 
They  was  both  in  middle  life,  an'  them  kind  usually  acts  the  silli- 


64  HUMOROUS  HITS 

est  with  the  exception  of  a  real  old  pair.  They  are  the  beaterees 
for  silly  actin'.  Well,  my  husband  never  married  any  couple 
without  makin'  sure  that  there  was  no  onlawful  hindrances  in 
the  way  o'  past  husbands  and  wives,  an'  so  he  says  to  the  woman, 
'Have  you  ever  been  married  before?'  An'  she  says  jest  as  flip- 
pant, 'Yes,  but  he  didn't  live  but  three  weeks;  so  it  ain't  wuth 
speakin'  of.'  Now  wa'n't  that  scand'lous?  It  jest  showed  how 
lightly  some  folks  look  on  the  solemn  ord'nanee  o'  matrimony. 

"I  reckon  you  know  that  the  Porters  have  a  boy  at  their  house  ? 
No?  Well,  they  have.  He  was  born  at  twenty  minutes  to  one 
las'  night,  or  this  mornin'  ruther,  an'  old  Susan  Puffer  is  to  do 
the  nufesm'.  I  heard  a  wagon  drive  by  here  lickety-split  at  most 
midnight  las'  night  an'  I  sez  to  myself,  sez  I,  'I'll  bet  that's  Hi 
Porter  tearin'  off  for  old  Susan  Puffer',  an'  I  got  up,  an' 
wrapped  a  blanket  around  me,  an'  waited  for  the  wagon  to  come 
back;  an'  when  it  did,  I  called  out,  'That  you.  Hi  an'  Susan?'  It 
gives  'em  a  good  deal  of  a  start,  but  Susan  called  out  that  it  was 
her,  an'  I  went  back  to  bed.  Some  folks  would  of  been  curious- 
minded  enough  to  of  went  right  over  to  the  Porters',  but  I  ain't 
that  pryin'  an'  I  didn't  go  over  till  after  breakfast  this  mornin'. 

"It's  a  real  nice  baby,  an'  it's  goin'  to  be  the  livin'  spit  o'  Hi 
exeeptin'  for  its  nose,  which  is  its  mother's  all  over ;  an'  its  mouth 
is  the  livin'  counterpart  o'  its  grandfather  Porter's  an'  it's  got 
the  Davis  ears.  You  know  its  mother  was  a  Davis.  I  hope  it 
won't  have  to  be  a  bottle-riz  baby.  I  don't  care  how  good  these 
infant  foods  may  be;  I  don't  think  that  a  bottle-riz  baby  is  ever 
the  equal  of  one  that  ain't  bottle-riz.  The  Lord  must  of  intended 
mothers  to  nuss  their  babies,  or  He  wouldn't  of  made  'em  so  they 
could.  So  I — must  you  be  goin'?  What's  your  hurry?  I'd  love 
to  have  you  set  all  afternoon.  It's  so  long  sense  you  have  been 
here,  an'  I  do  so  enjoy  havin'  the  neighbors  drop  in  an'  tell  me 
all  that's  goin'  on.  I  never  go  no  place  to  hear  the  news.  I 
Avish  you'd  come  in  real  often  an'  talk  to  me. 

"Looks  some  like  rain.  I  hope  it'll  be  fair  to-morrow,  for  I 
'low  on  goin'  over  to  Lucindy  Baxter's  to  spend  the  day.  Me  an' 
her  went  over  to  Ware  Monday,  an'  had  a  real  nice  all-day  visit 
with  Lucindy's  married  daughter.  She's  real  nicely  fixt,  an' 
she  had  three  kinds  of  cake  besides  cookies  for  tea.     Seems  to 


HUMOROUS  HITS  65 

me  one  kind  an'  the  cookies  would  o'  been  plenty.  Mebbe  she 
wanted  to  let  us  see  that  her  husband  was  a  good  pervider. 

I  went  over  to  Zion  Tuesday,  an'  Wednesday  me  an'  Nancy 
Dodd  went  over  to  Becky  Means's,  and  helped  her  quilt  her  album 
quilt;  an'  she  had  a  chicken-pie  for  dinner  that  went  a  little 
ahead  of  anything  I  ever  et  in  the  way  of  chicken-pie.  Nancy's 
a  good  cook  anyhow.  She  gives  a  kind  of  a  taste  to  things  that 
only  a  born  cook  can  give.  I'm  goin'  over  to  the  fair  in  Green- 
field Friday;  so  I — do  come  over  again  soon.  I  git  real  lonesome 
stayin'  to  home  close  as  I  do,  an'  it's  nice  to  have  some  one  come 
in  an'  talk  to  me  as  you  have.    Good-by. 

"Yes,  I'll  come  over  soon.  But  don't  you  wait  for  me.  Come 
when  you  kin.  I'm  alius  to  home.  Good-by.  See  my  little 
chicks?  I  put  a  hen  on  thirteen  eggs,  an'  she  hatched  out  every 
blessed  one  of  'em.  Wa'n't  she  smart?  An  she  laid  all  the  eggs 
herself,  too.  I  got  another  hen  comin'  off  on  the  tenth.  Didn't 
the  minister  preach  beautifully  Sunday?  I  dunno  as  I  ever 
heard  a  more  upliftm'  sermon.  I  see  that  his  wife  has  her  black 
silk  made  up  that  the  Ladies'  Society  gave  her  on  her  birthday. 
Didn't  seem  to  me  it  fit  real  well  under  the  arms.  Well,  good-by, 
good-by." 

By  permission  of  the  author  and  the  Christian  Endeavor  World. 
IF  I  CAN  BE  BY  HER 

BY   BENJAMIN   FRANKLIN    KING 

I  d-d-don't  c-c-c-are  how  the  r-r-r-obin  sings, 
Er  how  the  r-r-r-ooster  f-f-flaps  his  wings, 
Er  whether  't  sh-sh-shines,  er  whether  't  pours, 
Er  how  high  up  the  eagle  s-s-soars, 
If  I  can  b-b-b-be  by  her. 

I  don't  care  if  the  p-p-p-people  s-say 
'At  I'm  weak-minded  every  w-way, 
An'  n-n-never  had  no  cuh-common  sense, 
I'd  c-e-e-cuh-elimb  the  highest  p-picket  fence. 
If  I  could  b-b-b-be  by  her. 

If  I  can  be  by  h-h-her,  I'll  s-s-swim 
The  r-r-r-est  of  life  thro'  th-th-thick  an'  thm; 
I'll  throw  my  overcoat  away, 
An'  s-s-s-stand  out  on  the  e-e-c-oldest  day, 
If  I  can  b-b-b-be  bv  her. 


66  HUMOROUS    HITS 

You  s-s-see  sh-sh-she  weighs  an  awful  pile, 
B-b-b-but  I  d-d-d-don't  care — sh-sbe's  just  my  style, 
Au'  any  f-f-fool  could  p-p-p-lainly  see 
Sbe'd  look  well  b-b-b-by  the  side  of  me, 
If  I  could  b-b-b-be  by  her. 

I  b-b-b-braeed  right  uj:),  and  had  the  s-s-s-and 
To  ask  'er  f-f-f-father  f-f-fer  'er  hand; 
He  said:  "Wh-wh-what  p-p-prospects  have  you  got?" 
I  said :  "I  gu-gu-guess  I've  got  a  lot, 
If  I  can  b-b-b-be  by  her." 

It's  all  arranged  f-f-fer  Christmas  Daj', 

Fer  then  we're  goin'  to  r-r-r-run  away, 

An'  then  s-s-some  th-th-thing  that  cu-cu-couldn't  be 

At  all  b-b-efore  will  then,  you  s-s-see, 

B-b-b-because  I'll  b-b-b-be  by  her. 

From  "  Ben  King's  Verse,"  by  permission  of  Forbes  &  Co.,  Chicago. 


McCarthy  and  mcmanus 

ANONYMOUS 

An  Irishman  named  Patrick  McCarthy,  having  received  an  in- 
vitation to  visit  some  friends  who  were  stopping  at  one  of  the 
prominent  hotels,  suddenly  realized  that  his  best  suit  needed 
pressing.  He  sent  the  suit  to  his  friend  Michael  McManus,  the 
tailor,  with  instructions  to  put  it  in  proper  shape  and  to  return 
it  with  all  haste. 

After  waiting  an  hour  or  more,  he  became  very  impatient,  and 
asked  his  wife  to  go  for  the  clothes,  telling  her  to  be  sure  to 
bring  them  back  with  her.  When  she  returned  he  was  surprized 
to  find  she  had  not  brought  back  his  suit,  and  he  said : 

"Well,  where  are  my  clothes?" 

"Don't  ask  me,  don't  ask  me.  I'm  thot  mad  I'm  almost  afther 
killiu'  thot  McManus!" 

"Pf hot's  thot?    Pf hot's  McManus  done  with  thim?" 


HUMOROUS    HITS  07 

"He's  done  nothiii'  with  thim,  and  he  barely  took  notice  of  me." 

"Shure  woman,  dear,  pf hot's  that  you  be  tellin'  me?  Did  Mac 
insult  you, — for  the  love  of  hivins  tell  me  quick?" 

"Well,  I  will  tell  you.  Whin  I  wint  into  the  shop,  there  was 
McManus;  instid  of  sittiii'  on  the  table  as  usual,  he  was  sittin' 
forninst  it,  with  a  long  shate  of  paper  spread  out,  and  he  was 
a-writin'  and  a-writin'  and  a-writin'.  Says  I,  'Mr.  McManus.' 
No  answer.  Again  I  says,  'Mr.  McManus.'  Still  no  answer. 
Says  I,  'Look  here,  Mr.  McManus,  pfhot  do  you  mean  by  kapin' 
my  husband  waitin'  for  his  clothes? — have  you  got  thim  done?' 
Without  raisin'  his  head  he  says,  'No,  I  haven't,'  and  wint  on 
writin'  and  writin'.  Says  I,  'He's  waitin'  for  thim.'  Says  he, 
'Let  him  wait.'  Says  I,  'He  won't.'  Says  he,  'He'll  have  to.' 
Says  I,  'Pfhot  do  j'ou  mean  by  writin'  thot  long  document,  kiiowin' 
well  thot  my  husband  is  waitin'  for  his  clothes?'  Says  he,  'Well, 
if  you  must  know,  it's  important  business.  Do  you  see  thot  list?' 
pointin'  to  a  long  list  of  names.  'Well,'  says  he,  'thot's  a  list  of 
all  the  min  thot  I  can  lick  in  this  neighborhood.'  Says  I,  'Is  thot 
so?'  Says  he,  'Yes,  thot  is  so.'  Says  I,  'Mr.  McManus,  have  you 
got  my  husband's  name  on  thot  list?'  Says  he,  takin'  up  the  list 
and  holdin'  it  near  my  face,  'Look  at  thot, — the  very  first  name 
on  the  list !'  and  I  was  thot  mad  I  couldn't  talk." 

"Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  thot  he  had  my  name  on  thot  list  ?" 

"I  do,  and  the  very  first  one, — on  the  very  top." 

"Well,  wait  till  I  go  over  and  see  McManus." 

A  few  minutes  later  Mr.  McCarthy  entered  the  shop  of  Mr. 
McManus,  and  said, 

"Is  McManus  here?" 

McManus  replied,  "He  is  and  he's  very  busy." 

"Is  thot  so?" 

"Yes,  thot  is  so." 

"Look  here,  McManus,  pfhot  makes  you  so  busy?" 

"Oh,  I'm  just  doin'  a  little  writin'." 

"Well,  what  is  it  you're  writin'  ?" 

"Well,  I'll  tell  you.  I'm  makin'  out  a  list  of  all  the  min  thot 
I  can  lick  in  this  neighborhood,  and  a  moighty  big  list  it  is.  Just 
look  at  thot." 

"Say  Mac,  is  my  name  on  thot  list?" 


68 


HUMOROUS    HITS 


"Is  Pat  McCarthy's  name  on  this  list?    Well,  you  can  just  bet 
your  life  it  is,  and  it's  the  very  first  one!" 
"Is  thot  so,  McManusf 
"Yes,  thot's  so." 

McCarthy,  taking  off  his  coat  and  rolling  up  his  sleeves,  said: 
"Look  here,  McManus,  /  can  lick  you." 
"Did  you  say  you  thought  you  could  lick  me?" 
"I  said  I  can  lick  you." 
"You  say  you  can  lick  me?" 
"Yes,  thot's  what  I  said." 
"All  right.     Off  goes  your  name  from  the  list." 

AND   SHE   CRIED 

BY  MINNA  IRVING 

Miss  Muriel  Million  was  sitting  alone, 

With  a  very  disconsolate  aii*; 
Her  fluffy  blue  tea-gown  was  fastened  awry, 

And  frowsy  and  rumpled  her  hair. 
"Oh,  what  is  the  matter?"  I  said  in  alarm, 

"I  beg  you  in  me  to  confide." 
But  she  buried  her  face  in  her  'kerchief  of  lace, 

And  she  cried,  and  she  cried,  and  she  cried. 

"Come  out  for  a  spin  in  the  automobile. 

The  motor-boat  waits  at  the  pier; 
Or  let's  take  a  drive  in  the  sunshiny  park, 

Or  a  canter  on  horseback,  my  dear." 
T'was  thus  that  I  coaxed  her  in  lover-like  tones, 

As  I  tenderly  knelt  at  her  side, 
But  refusing  all  comfort  she  pushed  me  aside. 

While  she  cried,  and  she  cried,  and  she  cried. 

"Pray  whisper,  my  darling,  this  terrible  wo, 

You  know  I  would  love  you  the  same. 
If  the  millions  of  papa  vanish  in  smoke 

And  you  hadn't  a  cent  to  your  name, 

By  permission  of  the  author  and  of  the  New  York  Herald, 


HUMOROUS    HITS  69 

If  you  came  to  the  church  in  a  garment  of  rags 

I  would  wed  you  with  rapturous  pride." 
She  nestled  her  cheek  to  my  shoulder  at  this, 

Tho  she  cried,  and  she  cried,  and  she  cried. 

"You  know,"  she  exclaimed  in  a  piteous  waU, 

"That  love  of  a  hat  that  I  wore?— 
The  one  with  pink  roses  and  chiffon  behind, 

And  a  fluffy  pink  feather  before? — 
I  paid  Madame  Modeste  a  hundred  for  that, 

And  our  parlor-maid,  Flora  McBride, 
Has  got  one  just  like  it  for  three  twenty-five!" 

And  she  cried,  and  she  cried,  and  she  cried. 


DOT  LEEDLE  BOY 

BY  JAMES  WHITCOMB  RILEY 

Ot's  a  leedle  Gristmas  story 

Dot  I  told  der  leedle  folks — 
Und  I  vant  you  stop  dot  laughin' 

Und  graekin'  funny  jokes ! — 
So  help  me  Peter-Moses ! 

Ot's  no  time  for  monkeyshine, 
,Ober  I  vas  told  you  somedings 

Of  dot  leedle  boy  of  mine ! 

Ot  vas  von  cold  vinter  vedder, 

Ven  the  snow  Avas  all  about — 
Dot  you  have  to  chop  der  hatchet 

Eef  you  got  der  sauerkraut ! 
Und  der  cheekens  on  der  hind  leg 

Vas  standin'  in  der  shuie, 
Der  sun  shmile  out  dot  morning 

On  dot  leedle  boy  of  mine. 


70 


HUMOROUS    HITS 

He  vas  yoost  a  leedle  fcaby, 

Not  bigger  as  a  doll 
Dot  time  I  got  acquaintet — 

Ach !  you  ought  to  heard  'im  squall  I- 
I  grackys !  dot's  der  moosie 

Ot  make  me  feel  so  fine 
Ven  first  I  vas  been  niarriet — 

Oh,  dot  leedle  boy  of  mme! 

He  look'  yoost  like  his  fader ! — 

So,  ven  der  vimmen  said, 
"Vot  a  purty  leedle  baby !" 

Katrina  sliake  her  head — 
I  dink  she  must  'a'  notice 

Dot  der  baby  vas  a-gryin', 
Und  she  cover  up  der  blankets 

Of  dot  leedle  boy  of  mine. 

Veil,  ven  he  vas  got  bigger, 

Dot  he  grawl  und  bump  his  nose, 
Und  make  der  table  over, 

Und  molasses  on  his  glothes — 
Dot  make  'im  all  der  sweeter, — 

So  I  say  to  my  Katrina : 
"Better  you  vas  quit  a-sphankiu' 

Dot  leedle  boy  of  mine !" 

I  vish  you  could  'a'  seen  id — 

Ven  he  glimb  up  on  der  chair 
Und  scmash  der  lookin'-glasses 

Ven  he  ti-y  to  comb  his  hair 
Mit  a  hammer! — Und  Katrina 

Say,  "Dot's  an  ugly  sign!" 
But  I  laugh  und  vink  my  fingers 

At  dot  leedle  boy  of  mine. 


HUMOROUS    HITS  71 

But  vonce,  dot  vinter  morning, 

He  shlip  out  in  dei'  snow 
Mitout  no  stockin's  on  'im — 

He  say  he  "vant  to  go 
Und  fly  some  mit  der  birdies !" 

Und  ve  give  'im  medi-cine 
,Ven  he  catch  der  "parrygoric" — 

Dot  leedle  boy  of  mine ! 

Und  so  I  set  und  nurse  'im, 

Vile  der  Gristmas  vas  come  roun', 
Und  I  told  'im  'bout  "Kriss  Kringle," 

How  he  come  der  chimbly  down ; 
Und  I  ask  'im  if  he  love  'im 

Eef  he  bring  'im  someding  fine? 
^'Nicht  besser  as  mein  fader," 

Say  dot  leedle  boy  of  mine. 

Und  he  put  his  anns  aroun'  me 

Und  hug  so  close  und  tight^ 
I  hear  der  glock  a-tickm' 

All  der  balance  of  der  night ! — 
Someding  make  me  feel  so  funny 

Ven  I  say  to  my  Katrina, 
"Let  us  go  und  fill  der  stockin's, 

Of  dot  leedle  boy  of  mine." 

Veil — ve  buyed  a  leedle  horses 

Dot  you  pull  'im  mit  a  shtring, 
Und  a  little  fancy  jay -bird — 

Eef  you  vant  to  hear  'im  sing 
You  took  'im  by  der  topknot 

Und  yoost  blow  in  behine — 
Und  dot  make  much  spectalikle 

For  dot  leedle  boy  of  mine. 


72  HUMOROUS    HITS 

Und  gaudies,  nuts  uud  raisins— 

Und  I  buy  a  Icedle  drum 
Dot  I  vant  to  hear  'im  rattle 

Ven  der  Gristmas  morning  come ! 
Und  a  leedle  shmall  tin  rooster 

Dot  vould  crow  so  loud  und  fine 
yen  he  squeeze  'im  in  der  morning, 

Dot  leedle  boy  of  muie. 


Und — vile  ve  vas  a-fixm' — 

Dot  leedle  boy  vake  out ! 
I  fought  he  been  a-dreamin' 

"Kriss  Kringle"  vas  about, — 
For  he  say — "Dot's  him! — I  see  'im 

Mit  der  shtars  dot  make  der  shine!'* 
Und  he  yoost  keep  on  a-cryin' — 

Dot  leedle  boy  of  mine, — 


Und  gettin'  vorse  und  vorser — 

Und  tumble  on  der  bed ! 
So — ven  der  doctor  seen  id, 

He  kindo  shake  his  head, 
Und  veel  his  pulse — und  visper: 

*'Der  boy  is  a-dyin'." 
iYou  dink  I  could  believe  id? 

Dot  leedle  hoy  of  mine? 


I  told  you,  friends — dot's  someding, 

Der  last  time  dot  he  spheak 
Und  say,  ^'Goot-hy,  Kriss  Kringle!" 

— Dot  make  me  feel  so  veak 
I  yoost  kneel  down  und  drimble, 

Und  bur-sed  out  a-cryin', 
*'Mein  Gott,  Mein  Gott  in  Himmell — 

Dot  leedle  boy  of  mine!" 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  73 

Der  sun  don't  shine  dot  Gristmas ! 

.  .  •  Eef  dot  leedle  boy  vould  liff'd — 
No  deefer-en' !  for  heaven  vas 

His  leedle  Gristmas  gift!  .  .  . 
Und  der  rooster,  und  der  gandy, 

Und  me — und  my  Katrina — 
Und  der  jay-bird — is  a-vatin' 

For  dot  leedle  boy  of  mine. 

From  "Green  Fields  and  Running  Brooks,"  copyright  1893.  Used  by  special  per- 
mission of  the  publishers,  The  Bobbs-Merrill  Company. 


MR.  DOOLEY  ON  THE   GRIP 

BY   FIXLAY    PETER   DUKNE 

Mr.  Dooley  was  discovered  making  a  seasonable  beverage,  con- 
sisting of  one  part  syrup,  two  parts  quinine,  and  fifteen  parts 
strong  waters. 

"What's  the  matter?"  asked  Mr.  McKeuna. 

"I  have  th'  lah  gr-rip,"  said  Mr.  Dooley,  blowing  his  nose  and 
wiping  his  ej^es.  "Bad  cess  to  it !  Oh,  me  poor  back !  I  feels 
as  if  a  dhray  had  run  over  it.  Did  \e  iver  have  it?  Ye  did  not? 
Well,  ye're  lucky.    Ye're  a  lucky  man. 

"I  wint  to  McGuire's  wake  las'  week.  They  gave  him  a  dacint 
sind-off.  No  porther.  An'  himself  looked  natural,  as  fine  a  corpse 
as  iver  Gavin  laj-ed  out.  Gavin  tould  me  so  himsilf.  He  was  as 
proud  iv  McGuire  as  if  he  owned  him.  Fetched  half  th'  town  in 
to  look  at  him,  an'  give  ivry  wan  iv  thim  cards.  He  near  fright- 
ened ol'  man  Dugan  into  a  faint.  'Misther  Dugan,  how  old  a-are 
ye?'  'Sivinity-five,  thanks  be,'  says  Dugan.  'Thin,'  says  Gavin, 
'take  wan  iv  me  cards,'  he  says.  'I  hope  ye'll  not  forget  me,'  he 
says. 

"  'Twas  there  I  got  th'  lah  grip.  Lastewise,  it  is  me  own  opin- 
ion iv  it,  tho  th'  doethor  said  I  swallowed  a  bug.  It  don't 
seem  right,  Jawn,  f'r  th'  McGuii'es  is  a  clane  fam'ly;  but  th' 


7i  HUMOROUS    HITS 

docthor  said  a  bug  got  into  me  system.  'What  sort  if  bug?'  says 
I.  *A  lah  grip  bug,'  he  says.  'Ye  have  Mickrobes  in  ye're  lungs,' 
he  says.  'What's  thim?'  says  I.  'Tliim's  th'  lah  grip  bugs,'  says 
he.  'Ye  took  wan  in,  an'  warmed  it,'  he  says,  'an'  it  has  growed 
an'  multiplied  till  ye're  system  does  be  full  if  thim,'  he  says,  'mil- 
lions iv  thim,'  he  says,  'marchin'  an'  counter-marchin'  through  ye.' 
'Glory  be  to  the  saints!'  says  I.  'Had  I  better  swallow  some  in- 
sect powdher?'  I  says.  'Some  iv  thim  in  me  head  has  a  fallin' 
out,  an'  is  throwin'  bricks.'  'Foolish  man,'  says  he.  'Go  to  bed,' 
he  says,  'an'  lave  thim  alone,'  he  says;  'whin  they  find  who  they're 
in,'  he  says,  'they'll  quit  ye.' 

"So  I  wint  to  bed,  an'  waited  while  th'  Mickrobes  had  fun  with 
me.  Mondah  all  iv  thim  was  quiet  but  thim  in  me  stummick. 
They  stayed  up  late  dhrinkin'  an'  carousin'  an'  dancin'  jigs  till 
wurruds  come  up  between  th'  Kerry  Mickrobes  an'  thim  fr'm 
Wexford;  an'  th'  whole  party  wint  over  to  me  left  lung,  where 
they  cud  get  th'  air,  an'  had  it  out.  Th'  nex'  day  th'  little  Mick- 
robes made  a  tobaggan  slide  iv  me  spine;  an'  manetime  some 
Mickrobes  that  was  wurkin'  f  th'  tilliphone  comp'ny  got  it  in 
their  heads  that  me  legs  was  poles,  an'  put  on  their  spikes  an' 
climbed  all  night  long. 

"They  was  tired  out  th'  nex'  day  till  about  five  o'clock,  whin 
thim  that  was  in  me  head  begin  flushin'  out  th'  rooms;  an'  I  knew 
there  was  goin'  to  be  doin's  in  th'  top  flat.  What  did  thim  Mick- 
robes do  but  invite  all  th'  other  Mickrobes  in  f 'r  th'  ev'nin'.  They 
all  come.  Oh,  by  gar,  they  was  not  wan  iv  thim  stayed  away. 
At  six  o'clock  they  begin  to  move  fr'm  me  shins  to  me  throat. 
They  come  in  platoons  an'  s(iuads  an'  dhroves.  Some  iv  thim 
brought  along  brass  bands,  an'  more  thin  wan  hundred  thousand 
iv  thim  dhruv  through  me  pipes  on  dlirays.  A  trolley  line  was 
started  u])  me  back,  an  iv'ry  car  run  into  a  wagon-load  if  scrap- 
iron  at  th'  base  if  me  skull. 

"Th'  Mickrobes  in  me  head  must  've  done  thimselves  proud. 
They  tipped  over  th'  chairs  an'  tables;  an'  in  less  time  thin  it 
takes  to  tell,  th'  whole  party  was  at  it.  They'd  been  a  hurlin' 
game  in  tli'  back  iv  me  skull,  an'  th'  young  folks  was  dancin' 
breakdowns  an'  bavin'  leppin  matches  in  me  forehead;  but  they 
all   stopt,   to   mix  in.     Oh,  'iwas   a  grand   shindig — tin  millions 


HUMOROUS    HITS  75 

iv  men,  women,  an  childher  rowlin'  on  tli*  flure,  hands  an'  feet 
goin',  ice-picks  an'  liurlin'  sticks,  clubs,  brick-bats,  flyin'  in  th' 
air !  How  many  iv  thim  was  kilt  I  niver  knew ;  f 'r  I  wint  as  daft 
as  a  hen,  an'  dhreamt  iv  organizin'  a  Mickrobe  Campaign  Club 
that'd  sweep  th'  prim'ries,  an'  maybe  go  acrost  an'  free  Ireland. 
Whin  I  woke  up,  me  legs  was  as  weak  as  a  day-old  baby's,  an' 
me  poor  head  impty  as  a  cobbler's  j)urse.  I  want  no  more  iv  thim. 
Give  me  anny  bug  fr'm  a  cockroach  to  an  aygle,  save  an'  excipt 
thim  West  if  Ireland  Fenians,  th'  Mickrobes." 

By  permission  of  Small,  Maynard  &  Company. 


A   RAINY   DAY   EPISODE 

ANONYMOUS 

One  morning  recently  as  I  was  about  to  start  from  my  home, 
I  noticed  that  it  was  raining  veiy  hard  outside,  and  as  I  turned 
to  the  rack  to  get  an  umbrella  I  was  surprized  to  find  that  out  of 
five  umbrellas  there  was  not  one  in  the  lot  I  could  use.  On  the 
impulse  of  the  moment  I  decided  to  take  the  whole  five  down  town 
to  the  umbrella  hospital  and  have  them  all  repaired  at  once. 

Just  as  I  started  from  the  door  my  wife  asked  me  to  be  sure 
and  bring  her  umbrella  back  as  she  wanted  to  use  it  that  evening. 
This  imprest  the  subject  of  umbrellas  very  vividly  on  my  mind, 
so  I  did  not  fail  to  leave  the  five  umbrellas  to  be  repaired,  stating 
I  would  call  for  them  on  my  way  home  in  the  evening. 

When  I  went  to  lunch  at  noon  it  was  still  raining  very  hard, 
but  as  I  had  no  rmabrella  this  simply  imprest  the  subject  on  my 
mind.  I  went  to  a  nearby  restaurant,  sat  down  at  a  table,  and 
had  been  there  only  a  few  minutes  Avhen  a  young  lady  came  in 
and  sat  down  at  the  same  table  with  me.  I  was  first  to  finish, 
however,  and  getting  up  I  absent-mindedly  picked  up  her  um- 
brella and  started  for  the  door.  She  called  out  to  me  and  re- 
minded me  that  I  had  her  umbrella,  whereupon  I  returned  it  to 
her  with  much  embarrassment  and  many  apologies. 

This  incident  served  to  impress  the  subject  more  deeply  on 
my  mind,  so  on  my  way  home  in  the  evening  I  called  for  my 


76  HUMOKOUS    HITS  ' 

umbrellas,  bought  a  newspaper,  and  boarded  a  street-car.  I  was 
deeply  engrossed  in  my  newspaper,  having  placed  the  five  um- 
brellas alongside  of  me  in  the  car,  but  all  at  once  I  had  a  peculiar 
feeling  of  someone  staring  at  me.  Suddenly  I  looked  up  from 
my  paper,  and  was  surprized  to  see  sitting  directly  opposite  me 
the  same  young  woman  I  had  met  in  the  restaurant !  She  had 
a  broad  smile  on  her  face,  and  looking  straight  into  my  eyes  she 
said  knowingly:  "You've  had  a  successful  day,  to-day,  haven't 
you?" 

I   KNEW   HE  WOULD   COME  IF  I  WAITED 

BY    HORACK   G.    WILLIAMSON 

I  knew  he  would  come  if  I  waited, 

Tho  waiting,  it  caused  me  despair; 
And  I  sat  by  the  window  and  listened 

To  hear  his  first  step  on  the  stair: 
For  I  knew  he  would  come  if  I  waited, 

But  anxiously  I  paced  'round  the  floor; 
Oh,  to  see  his  own  form  on  the  threshold 

As  I  hastened  to  open  the  door. 
Would  he  come?    But  how  dare  I  question 

His  faithfidness  to  his  own  word; 
Would  he  dare  not  come  at  my  calling? 

Or  was  that  his  dear  step  that  I  heard? 
Oh,  I  rush  to  the  door  for  to  meet  him, 

For  to  welcome  him  here  after  all, 
For  I  knew  he  would  come  if  I  waited. 

He  would  come  to  answer  my  call. 
Yes,  yes,  it  is  he  on  the  j^avement, 

He's  coming,  he's  ringing  the  bell. 
And  my  heart  beats  wild  with  rapture 

Of  a  joy  which  I  never  can  tell, 
For  I  knew  he  would  come  if  I  waited, 

Y"es,  he'd  come  at  my  call;  joy,  0  joy, 
What  happiness  it  is  to  welcome 

Just  to  welcome :  "the  messenger  boy." 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  77. 


LOVE'S   MOODS   AND    SENSES 

ANONYMOUS 

Sally  Salter,  she  was  a  young  lady  who  taught, 

And  her  friend  Charley  Church  was  a  preacher  who  praught  I 

Tho  his  enemies  called  him  a  sereecher  who  scraught. 

His  heart  when  he  saw  her  kept  sinking,  and  sunk, 
And  his  eye,  meeting  hers,  began  winking,  and  wunk; 
While  she  in  her  turn  fell  to  thinking,  and  thunk. 

He  hastened  to  woo  her,  and  sweetly  he  wooed. 
For  his  love  gTew  until  to  a  mountaui  it  grewed, 
And  what  he  was  longing  to  do  then  he  doed. 

In  secret  he  wanted  to  speak,  and  he  spoke, 

To  seek  with  his  lips  what  his  heart  long  had  soke; 

So  he  managed  to  let  the  truth  leak,  and  it  loke. 

He  asked  her  to  ride  to  the  church,  and  they  rode. 

They  so  sweetly  did  glide,  that  they  both  thought  they  giode, 

And  they  came  to  the  place  to  be  tied,  and  were  tode. 

Then,  "homeward,"  he  said,  "let  us  drive,"  and  they  drove, 
And  soon  as  they  wished  to  arrive,  they  arrove; 
For  whatever  he  couldn't  contrive  she  controve. 

The  kiss  he  was  dying  to  steal,  then  he  stole : 

At  the  feet  where  he  wanted  to  kneel,  then  he  knole, 

And  said,  "I  feel  better  than  ever  I  fole." 

So  they  to  each  other  kept  clinging  and  clung; 
While  time  his  swift  circuit  was  winging,  and  wung; 
And  this  was  the  thing  he  was  bringing,  and  brung: 


78  HUMOROUS    HITS 

The  man  Sally  wanted  to  catch,  and  had  caught — 

That  she  wanted  from  others  to  snatch,  and  had  suaught — 

Was  the  one  that  she  now  liked  to  scratch,  and  she  scraught. 

And  Charley's  warm  love  began  freezing,  and  froze, 

While  he  took  to  teasing,  and  cruelly  toze 

The  girl  he  had  wished  to  be  squeezing,  and  squoze. 


"Wretch !"  he  cried,  when  she  threatened  to  leave  him,  and  left, 

"How  could  you  deceive  me,  as  you  have  deceft?" 

And  she  answered,  "I  promised  to  cleave,  and  I've  cleft !" 


A  NOCTURNAL  SKETCH 

« 

BY   THOMAS    HOOD 

Even  is  come;  and  from  the  dark  park,  hark, 

The  signal  of  the  setting  sun — one  gun ! 

And  six  is  sounding  from  the  chime,  prime  time 

To  go  and  see  the  Drury-Lane  Dane  slain, — 

Or  hear  Othello's  jealous  doubt  spout  out, — 

Or  Macbeth  ravmg  at  that  shade-made  blade, 

Denying  to  his  frantic  clutch  much  touch ; 

Or  else  to  see  Ducrow  with  wide  stride  ride 

Four  horses  as  no  other  man  can  span; 

Or  in  the  small  Olympic  Pit,  sit  split 

Laughing  at  Liston,  while  you  quiz  his  phiz. 

Anon  Night  comes,  and  with  her  wings  brings  things 

Such  as,  with  his  poetic  tongue.  Young  sung; 

The  gas  up-blazes  with  its  bright,  white  light. 

And  paralytic  watchmen  prowl,  howl,  growl. 

About  the  streets  and  take  up  Pail-Mall  Sal, 

Who,  hasting  to  her  nightly  jobs,  robs  fobs. 


HUMOROUS    HITS  79 

Now  thieves  to  enter  for  your  cash,  smash,  crash, 
Past  drowsy  Charley,  in  a  deep  sleep,  creep, 
But  frightened  by  Policeman  B  3,  flee, 
And  while  they're  going,  whisper  low,  "No  go !" 
Now  puss,  while  folks  are  in  their  beds,  treads  leads. 
And  sleei^ers  waking,  grumble:  "Drat  that  cat!" 
Who  in  the  gutter  caterwauls,  squalls,  mauls 
Some  feline  foe,  and  screams  in  shrill  ill  will. 

* 

Now  Bulls  of  Bashan,  of  a  prize  size,  rise 

In  childish  di'eams,  and  with  a  roar  gore  poor 

Georgy,  or  Charley,  or  Billy,  willy-nilly; — 

But  Nui-semaid,  in  a  nightmare  rest,  chest-prest, 

Dreameth  of  one  of  her  old  flames,  James  Games, 

And  that  she  hears — what  faith  is  man's ! — Ann's  banns 

And  his,  from  Rev.  Mr.  Rice,  twice,  thrice : 

White  ribbons  flourish,  and  a  stout  shout  out, 

That  upward  goes,  shows  Rose  knows  those  bows'  woes! 


\  KATIE'S   ANSWER 


ANONYMOUS 

Och,  Katie's  a  rogue,  it  is  thrue. 

But  her  eyes,  like  the  sky,  are  so  blue, 

An'  her  dimples  so  swate. 

An'  her  ankles  so  nate, 
She  dazed,  an'  she  bothered  me,  too — 

Till  one  mornin'  we  wint  for  a  ride, 
Whin,  demure  as  a  bride,  by  my  side, 

The  darlint,  she  sat. 

With  the  wickedest  hat, 
'Neath  a  purty  girl's  chin  iver  tied. 


80 


HUMOEOUS    HITS 

An'  my  heart,  arrali,  thin  how  it  bate 
For  my  Kate  looked  so  temptin'  an'  swate, 

Wid  cheeks  like  the  roses, 

An'  all  the  red  posies, 
That  grow  in  her  garden  so  nate. 

But  I  sat  just  as  mute  as  the  dead, 
Till  she  said,  wid  a  toss  of  the  head, 

"If  I'd  known  that  to-day 

You'd  have  nothing  to  say, 
I'd  have  gone  wid  my  cousin  instead." 

Thin  I  felt  myself  grow  very  bowld. 
For  I  knew  she'd  not  scold  if  I  towld 

Uv  the  love  in  my  heart, 

That  would  never  depart, 
Tho  I  lived  to  be  wrinkled  an'  owld. 

An'  I  said,  ''If  I  dared  to  do  so, 
I'd  lit  go  uv  the  baste,  an'  I'd  throw 

Both  arms  'round  yer  waist, 

An'  be  stalin'  a  taste 
TJv  them  lips  that  are  coaxin'  me  so." 

Then  she  blushed  a  more  illegent  red, 
As  she  said,  widout  ruisin'  her  head, 

An'  her  eyes  lookin'  down 

'Neath  her  lashes  so  brown, 
"Would  ye  like  me  to  drive,  Misther  Ted?" 


"♦SPACIALLY  JIM" 

ANONYMOUS 

I  wus  mighty  good-lookin'  when  I  was  young, 

Peert  an'  black-eyed  an'  slim. 
With  fellers  a-courtin'  me  Sunday  nights, 

'Spacially  Jim! 


HUMOROUS  HITS  81 

The  likeliest  one  of  'em  all  was  he, 

Chipper  an'  han'soni'  an'  trim, 
But  I  tossed  up  my  head  an'  made  fun  o'  the  crowd, 

'Specially  Jim ! 

I  said  I  hadn't  no  'pinion  o'  men, 

An'  I  wouldn't  take  stock  in  him ! 
But  they  kep'  up  a-comin'  in  spite  o'  my  talk, 

'Spacially  Jim ! 

I  got  so  tired  o'  havin'  'em  roun' 

'Spacially  Jim ! 
I  made  up  my  mind  I'd  settle  down 

An'  take  up  with  him. 

So  we  was  married  one  Sunday  in  church, 

'Twas  crowded  full  to  the  brim; 
'Twas  the  only  way  to  get  rid  of  'em  all, 

'Spacially  Jim. 

AGNES,  I  LOVE  THEE! 

ANONYMOUS 

I  stood  upon  the  ocean's  briny  shore; 

And,  with  a  fragile  reed,  I  wrote 

Upon  the  sand — "Agnes,  I  love  thee !" 

The  mad  waves  rolled  by,  and  blotted  out 

The  fair  impression. 

Frail  reed !  cruel  wave !  treacherous  sand ! 

I'll  trust  ye  no  more; 

But,  with  giant  hand,  I'll  pluck 

From  NoiTvay's  frozen  shore 

Her  tallest  pine,  and  dip  its  top 

Into  the  crater  of  Vesuvius, 

And  upon  the  high  and  burnished  heavens 

I'll  write, — "Agnes,  I  love  thee  !" — 

And  I  would  like  to  see  any 

Dog-goned  wave  wash  that  out ! 


82  HUMOROUS    HITS 

>      THE  GORILLA 

ANONYMOUS 

"0  mig'lity  ape ! 

Half  beast,  half  man, 
Thy  uncouth  shape 
Betrays  a  plan 
The  gulf  of  Being-  at  a  bound  to  span. 
Thou  art  the  link  between  ourselves  and  brutes, 

Lifting  the  lower  to  a  higher  plane; 
Thy  human  face  all  cavilers  refutes, 

"Who  sneer  at  Darwin  as  a  dreamer  vain. 
How  camest  thou  beneath  this  canvas  tent? 

Withm  this  cage?  behind  these  iron  bars? 
Thou,  whose  young  days  in  tropic  lands  were  spent, 

With  strange  companions,  under  foreign  stars? 
Art  thou  not  lonely?    What  is  life  to  thee 

Thus  mewed  in  prison,  innocent  of  crime, 
Become  a  spectacle  for  ci'owds  to  see, 

And  reckless  boys  to  jeer  at  all  the  time? 
Hast  thou  no  feelings  such  as  Ave  possess? 
Art  thou  devoid  of  anj^  sense  of  shame? 
Rise  up,  O  brother,  and  thy  wrongs  redress; 
Rise  in  thy  might,  and  be  no  longer  tame !" 

I  paused  in  my  apostrophe.    The  animal  arose; 
He  seized  the  bars  that  penned  him  in :  my  blood  in  teiTor  froze. 
He  shook  the  cage  from  side  to  side;  the  frightened  people  fled; 
Then,  in  a  tone  of  savage  wi'ath,  the  horrid  monster  said : 
'Tm  liired  by  the  wake  to  wear  the  dhirty  craythur's  slikin; 
I  came  from  Tipperary,  and  me  name  is  Micky  Flynu !" 


HUMOROUS    HITS  83 


BANGING  A  SENSATIONAL  NOVELIST 

ANONYMOUS 

The  other  day  a  stout  woman,  armed  with  an  umbrella,  and 
leadmg  a  small  urchin,  called  at  the  office  of  a  New  York  boys' 
story  paper. 

"Is  this  the  place  where  they  fight  Indians?"  she  inquii'ed  of 
the  yoimg  man  in  charge.  "Is  this  the  locality  where  the  brave 
boy  charges  up  the  canyon  and  speeds  a  bullet  to  the  heart  of 
the  dusky  redskui?"  and  she  jerked  the  urchin  around  by  the 
ear  and  brought  her  umbrella  down  on  the  desk. 

"We  publish  stories  for  boys,  and " 

'•'I  want  to  know  if  these  are  the  premises  on  which  the  daring 
lad  sprmgs  upon  his  fieiy  mustang,  and,  darting  through  the  cir- 
cle of  thunderstruck  savages,  cuts  the  captive's  cords  and  bears 
him  away  before  the  wondering  Indians  have  recovered  from  their 
astonishment?  That's  the  information  I'm  after.  I  want  to 
know  if  that  sort  of  thing  is  perpetrated  here!"  and  she  swung 
the  vmibrella  around  her  head. 

"I  don't  remember  those  specific  facts,  but " 

"I  want  to  know  if  this  is  the  precinct  where  the  adventurous 
boy  jiunps  on  the  back  of  a  buffalo  and  with  unerring  aim  picks 
off  one  by  one  the  bloodthirsty  pursuers  who  bite  the  dust  at 
every  ci'ack  of  the  faithful  rifle !  I'm  looking  for  the  place 
where  that  sort  of  thing  happens !"  and  this  time  she  brought 
the  unlucky  man  a  tremendous  whack  across  the  back. 

"I  think " 

"I'm  in  search  of  the  shop  in  which  the  boy  road-agent  holds 
the  quivering  stage-driver  powerless  with  his  glittering  eye,  while 
he  robs  the  male  passengers  with  an  adroitness  born  of  long  and 
tried  experience,  and  kisses  the  hands  of  the  lady  passengers 
with  a  gallanti-y  of  bearmg  that  bespeaks  noble  bii'th  and  a  chiv- 
alrous nature !  I'm  looking  for  the  apartment  in  which  that 
business  is  transacted !" 

"Upon  my  word,  madam,  I " 

"I  want  to  be  mtroduced  to  the  jars  iu  which  you  keep  the 


84  HUMOROUS    HITS 

boy  scouts  of  the  Sierras!  Show  me  the  bms  full  of  the  boy- 
detectives  of  the  prairie !  Point  out  to  me  the  barrels  full  of 
boy  pirates  of  the  Spanish  main !"  and  with  each  demand  she 
brought  her  umbrella  down  on  the  young  man's  head  until  he 
jumped  over  the  desk  and  sought  safety  in  a  neighboring  canyon. 

"I'll  teach  'em!"  she  panted,  grasping  the  urchin  by  the  ear 
and  leading  him  off.  "I'll  teach  'em  to  make  it  good  or  dance. 
Want  to  go  fight  Indians  any  more  {twisting  the  bojj's  ear)"i 
"Want  to  stand  proudly  upon  the  pinnacle  of  the  mountain  and 
scatter  the  plain  beneath  with  the  bleeding  bodies  of  uncounted 
slain?  Propose  to  spring  upon  the  taffrail  and  with  a  ringing- 
word  of  command  send  a  broadside  into  the  richly-laden  galley, 
and  then  mercifully  spare  the  beautiful  maiden  in  the  cabin, 
that  she  may  become  your  bride ?    Eh?    Going  to  do  it  any  more ?" 

The  boy  exprest  his  permanent  abandonment  of  all  the  glories 
enumerated. 

"Then  come  along,"  said  she,  taking  him  by  the  collar.  "Let 
me  catch  you  around  with  any  more  ramrods  and  carving  knives, 
and  you'll  think  the  leaping,  curling,  resistless  prairie  fire  has 
swept  with  a  ferocious  roar  of  triumph  across  the  trembling 
plains  and  lodged  under  your  jacket  to  stay !" 


HOPKINS'  LAST  MOMENTS 

ANONYMOUS 

Nurses  in  hospitals  are  inclined  to  lay  too  much  stress  on  the 
advantages  received  by  the  patients  and  their  duty  of  thankful- 
ness, but  it  is  the  poor  soldier  who  suffei's  most  from  always  ha\- 
ing  his  cause  to  be  gratefid  flung  in  his  teeth.  The  following 
true  story  took  place  between  the  chai^lain  and  the  hospital  or- 
derly : 

Chaplain — "So  poor  Hopkins  is  dead.  I  should  like  to  have 
spoken  to  him  once  more  and  soothed  his  last  moments.  Why 
didn't  you  call  me  f 

Hospital  Orderly — "I  didn't  think  you  ought  to  be  disturbed 
for  'Opkins,  sir;  so  I  just  soothed  him  as  best  I  could  myself." 


HUMOROUS    HITS  85 

Chaplain — "Why,  what  did  you  say  to  himf 
Orderly — "I  sez,  '  'Ojikins,  you're  mortal  bad.' 

'I  am/  sez  'e." 

*  'Opkins/  sez  I,  'I  don't  think  you'll  get  better.'  " 

'No,'  sez  'e." 

'  'Opkins,'  sez  I,  'you're  going  fast.'  " 

'Yes,'  sez  'e." 

'  'Opkins,'  sez  I,  'I  don't  think  you  can  'ope  to  go  to  'eaven.'  " 

'I  don't  think  I  can,'  sez  'e." 

'Well,  then,  'Opkins,'  sez  I,  'you'll  go  to  'ell.' " 

'I  suppose  so,'  sez  'e." 
'Opkins,'  sez  I,  'you  ought  to  be  wery  grateful  as  there's  a 
place  perwided  for  you,  and  that  you've  got  somewhere  to  go.' 
And  I  think  'e  'eard,  sir,  for  'e  just  gave  a  little  groan,  turned 
over,  and  then  'e  died." 


THE  FAIRIES'  TEA 

ANONYMOUS 

Five  little  fairies  went  out  to  take  tea, 

Under  the  shade  of  a  juniper  tree. 

Each  had  a  cup  from  an  acorn  cut, 

And  a  plate  from  the  rmd  of  a  hickory  nut. 

The  table  was  spread  with  a  cloth  all  of  lace, 
Woven  by  spiders  the  banquet  to  grace. 
Oh,  what  good  things  they  all  had  to  eat ! — 
Slices  of  strawberry, — my  what  a  treat ! 

Honey  the  sweetest  the  wild  bee  could  hive. 

And  a  humming-bird's  egg  for  each  of  the  five. 

Then  they  drank  their  host's  health  in  their  favorite  drink. 

Which  was, — now  what  was  if?     Can  anyone  think? 

Why  the  dew-drop  that  comes  from  the  heart  of  the  rose 
Is  the  drink  of  the  fairies,  as  eveiyone  knows. 


gg  HUMOROUS    HITS 


COUNTING  EGGS 

ANONYMOUS 

01(1  Moses,  who  sells  eggs  and  cliiekens  on  the  streets  of  Aus- 
tin for  a  living,  is  as  honest  an  old  negro  as  ever  lived;  but  he 
has  the  habit  of  chatting  familiarly  with  his  customers,  hence  he 
frequently  makes  mistakes  in  counting  out  the  eggs  they  buy. 
He  carries  his  wares  around  in  a  small  cart  drawn  by  a  diminu- 
tive donkey.  He  stopt  in  front  of  the  residence  of  Mrs.  Samuel 
Burton.  The  old  lad}^  herself  came  out  to  the  gate  to  make  the 
purchase. 

"Have  you  any  eggs  this  morning,  Uncle  Moses?"  she  asked. 

"Yes,  indeed  I  has.    Jess  got  in  ten  dozen  from  de  kentry." 

"Are  they  fresh?" 

"Fresh  ?  Yes,  indeed !  I  guantees  'em,  an' — an' — de  hen  guan- 
tees  'em." 

"I'll  take  nine  dozen.  You  can  just  count  them  into  this 
basket." 

"All  right,  mum;  {he  counts)  one,  two,  free,  foah,  five,  six, 
seben,  eight,  nine,  ten.  You  can  rely  on  dem  bein'  fresh.  How's 
your  son  comin'  on  de  school?    He  must  be  mos'  grown." 

"Yes,  Uncle  Moses;  he  is  a  clerk  in  a  bank  in  Galveston." 

"Why,  how  ole  am  de  boy?" 

"He  is  eighteen." 

"You  don't  tole  me  so!  Eighteen,  and  getting  a  salaiy  already! 
Eighteen  (counting),  nineteen,  twenty,  twenty-one,  twenty-two, 
twenty-free,  twenty-foah,  twenty-five.  And  how's  your  gal  comin' 
on?    She  was  most  growed  up  de  last  time  I  seed  her." 

"She  is  married  and  living  in  Dallas." 

"Wall,  I  declar' ;  how  time  scoots  away !  And  you  say  she  has 
childruns?    Why,  how  ole  am  de  gal?    She  must  be  just  about 


"Thirty-three." 

"Am  dat  so?  (Counting.)  Firty-free,  firty-foah,  firty-five, 
firty-six,  firty-seben,  firty-eight,  firty-nine,  forty,  forty-one,  forty- 
two,  forty-free.  Hit  am  singular  dat  you  has  sich  ole  childnms. 
You  don't  look  more  den  forty  years  old  yerseff." 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  87 

"Nonsense,  old  man;  I  see  you  want  to  flatter  me.  When  a 
person  gets  to  be  fifty-three  years  old " 

"Fifty-free!  I  jess  dun  gwinter  bleeve  hit;  fifty-free,  fifty- 
foah,  fifty-five,  fifty-six — I  want  you  to  pay  'tenshun  when  I 
count  de  eggs,  so  dar'll  be  no  mistake — fifty-nine,  sixty,  sixty-one, 
sixty-two,  sixty- free,  sixty-f oah.  Whew !  Dis  am  a  warm  day. 
Dis  am  de  time  ob  year  when  I  feels  I'se  gettin'  ole  myself;  I 
ain't  long  fur  dis  world.  You  comes  from  an  ole  family.  When 
your  fadder  died  he  was  sebenty  years  ole." 

"Seventy-two." 

"Dat's  old,  suah.  Sebenty-two,  sebenty-free,  sebenty-foah, 
sebenty-five,  sebenty-six,  sebenty-seben,  sebenty-eight,  sebenty- 
nine.  And  your  mudder?  She  was  one  ob  de  noblest-lookin' 
ladies  I  eber  see.  You  remind  me  ob  her  so  much!  She  libed 
to  mos'  a  hundred.  I  bleeves  she  was  done  past  a  centurion  when 
she  died." 

"No,  Uncle  Moses;  she  was  only  nmety-six  when  she  died." 

"Den  she  wan't  no  chicken  when  she  died,  I  know  dat.  Ninety- 
six,  ninety-seben,  ninety-eight,  ninety-nine,  one  hundred,  one,  two, 
free,  foah,  five,  six,  seben,  eight — dar,  one  hundred  and  eight 
nice  fresh  eggs — jess  nine  dozen;  and  here  am  one  moah  egg  m 
ease  I  have  discounted  myself." 

Old  Mose  went  on  his  way  rejoicing.  A  few  days  afterward 
Mrs.  Burton  said  to  her  husband  : 

"I  am  afraid  that  we  will  have  to  discharge  Matilda.  I  am 
satisfied  that  she  steals  the  milk  and  eggs.  I  am  positive  about 
the  eggs,  for  I  bought  them  day  before  yesterday,  and  now  about 
half  of  them  are  gone.  I  stood  right  there,  and  heard  Moses 
count  them  myself,  and  there  were  nine  dozen." 


THE  OATMOBILE 

ANONYMOUS 

Ay  yast  bane  oop  by  Minnesote 
To  sa  my  Onkle  Yohn. 

Ay  stop  me  by  St.  Paul  awhile 
Yust  for  a  little  fun; 


g8  HUMOROUS    HITS 

An'  dere  Ay  saw  one  oatmobile — 
Dat  bane  de  name  you  call ; 

Und  yo  could  tak  a  ride  on  heem 
Mit  out  some  horse  at  all. 


Dat  bane  a  purty  nice  machine 

Wit  rubber  tires  an  tings; 
Yust  sit  heem  lik  a  vagon  on 

An'  he  run  yust  lik  mit  vings. 
Ay  ask  dot  man  vot  make  heem  go? 

He  say,  "My  hade  got  vheels." 
He  say,  "He  feed  heem  plenty  oat 

An'  call  heem  Oat-mo-bile." 


Ay  say,  "Ay  know  Ay  bane  grane  Sweede 

Yust  come  from  Nord  Dakote, 
But  Ay  dou  belave  he  make  heem  go 

By  feedm'  vagin  oat." 
Ay  say  to  heem,  "Look  here !  Ay  bane 

Some  time  in  Missoure, 
Ay  know  Ay'm  grane,  but  yust  de  same 

Youbet  me  life,  'show  me !'  " 

Dat  feller  lafe  an'  shake  his  head 

An'  say,  "Ay  bane  good  show  myself," 
Ay  say,  "Ay  tink  Ay  punch  your  head 

An'  lay  you  on  de  shelf." 
Ay  pick  me  oop  a  little  stick 

Bane  layin'  on  de  seat 
An  bet  me  life,  dot  Oat-mo-bile 

Yust  started  oop  de  street. 

Ay  holler,  ""Wo-o-o !"  but  he  don'  stop 

An'  den  you  bet  my  life 
Ay  wish  Ay  bane  by  Nord  Dakote, 

At  home  mit  Ann,  my  vife, 


HUMOROUS  HITS  89 


Dat  Oat-mo-bile  yust  boomped  me 
Oop  de  side  valk  on  an'  stopt; 

An'  bucked  me  thro'  de  window 
Of  one  dem  butcher-shop. 

He  split  me  nose  bay  my  face  oop 

lie  smash  me  almost  dead; 
He  punch  de  inside  of  me  mouth 

All  outside  of  me  hade. 
He  hurt  me  eye  so  bad  hi  one 

Ay'm  blin'  yust  like  a  beetle. 
In  oder  one,  Ay  can  see  some 

But  only  just  a  little. 

De  las  Ay  see  of  dat  machine 

He  bane  a  buckin'  still. 
Ay  tink  he  feed  too  many  oat 

Tod  at  old  Oat-mo-bile. 
Ay  tell  my  wife,  if  I  get  veil 

You  bet  I  vill  not  monkey 
Some  anoder  time  with 

Any  Oat-mo-bile. 


ALMOST  BEYOND  ENDURANCE 

BY  JAMES  WHITCOMB  RILEY 

I  ain't  a-goin'  to  cry  no  more,  no  more ! 

I'm  got  earache,  an'  ma  can't  make  it  quit  a-tall ; 

An'  Carlo  bite  my  rubber-ball 

An'  puncture  it;  an'  Sis  she  take 

An'  poke  my  knife  down  through  the  stable-floor 

An'  loozed  it,^ — blame  it  all! 

But  I  ain't  a-goin'  to  cry  no  more,  no  more ! 

By  permission  from  "  His  Pa's  Romance,"  copyright,  1903,  the  Bobbs-Merrill  Com- 
pany, Indianapolis,  Ind. 


90  HUMOROUS    HITS 

An'  Aunt  Mame  wrote  she's  comin'  an'  she  can't, 

Folks  is  come  there! — An'  I  don't  care  if  she  is  my  aunt! 

An'  my  eyes  stings;  an'  I'm 

1st  coughhi'  all  the  time, 

An'  hurts  me  so,  an'  where  my  side's  so  sore, 

Grampa  felt  where,  an'  he 

Says,  "Maybe  it's  pleurasy!" 

But  I  ain't  a-goin'  to  cry  no  more,  no  more! 

An'  I  clumbed  up  an'  felled  ofE  the  fence. 

An'  Herbert  he  ist  laugh  at  me ! 

An'  my  fi'  cents, 

It  sticked  in  my  tin  bank,  an'  I  ist  tore 

Purt  night  my  fum-nail  off  a-tryin'  to  git 

It  out — nen  smash  it!    An'  it's  in  there  yet! 

But  I  ain't  a-goiu'  to  cry  no  more,  no  more ! 

Oo !  I'm  so  wicked !  an'  my  breath's  so  hot, 

Ist  like  I  run  an'  don't  rest  none 

But  ist  run  on  when  I  ought  to  not; 

Yes,  an'  my  chin 

An'  lips  all  warpy,  an'  teeth's  so  fast, 

An's  a  place  in  my  throat  I  can't  swaller  past, — 

An'  they  all  hurt  so! 

Aji'  oh,  my  oh ! 

I'm  a-startin'  ag'in, — 

I'm  a-starthi'  ag'in,  but  I  won't  fer  shore ! 

I  ist  ain't  a-goin  to  cry  no  raoj-o,  no  more! 


PROOF  POSITIVE 

ANONYMOUS 

I  stept  into  my  room  one  day 
And  saw  some  children  there  at  play. 
I  sought  my  little  gii'l  and  found  her 
With  half  a  dozen  youngsters  round  her; 
And  from  the  way  she  slapped  her  rule,  - 


HUMOROUS    HITS  91 

I  knew  that  they  were  "playing  school." 

I  gave  my  little  giii  a  kiss — 

A  pleasure  that  I  never  miss. 

A  murmur  through  the  schoolroom  ran, 

A  smile  pervaded  eveiy  feature, 

"He  must  be  a  committeeman  !" 

They  loud  exclaimed.    "He  kissed  the  teacher!" 


THE  IRISH  PHILOSOPHER 

ANONYMOUS 

Ladies  and  Gintlemen: — I  see  so  many  foine-lookin'  people 
sittin'  before  me,  that  if  you'll  excuse  me  I'll  be  after  takin'  a 
seat  myself. 

You  don't  know  me,  I'm  thinkin,'  or  some  of  yees  'ud  be  noddin' 
to  me  afore  this. 

I'm  a  walkin'  pedestrian,  a  traveling  philosopher ;  Terry  O'Mul- 
ligan's  me  name.  I'm  from  Dublin,  where  many  philosophers 
before  me  was  raised  and  bred.  Oh,  philosophy  is  a  f oine  study. 
I  don't  know  anythmg  about  it,  but  it's  a  foine  study.  Before  I 
kim  over  I  attinded  an  important  meetin'  of  philosophers  in 
Dublin,  and  the  discussin'  and  talkin'  you'd  hear  there  about  the 
world  'ud  wann  the  very  heart  of  Socrates  or  Aristotle  himself. 
"Well,  there  was  a  great  many  imminent  and  learned  min  there  at 
the  meetin,'  and  I  was  there,  too;  and  while  we  was  in  the  very 
thickest  of  a  heated  argument  a  man  comes  up  to  me,  and  says 
he,  "Do  you  know  what  we're  talkin'  about?"  "I  do,"  says  I, 
"but  I  don't  understand  yees."  "Could  you  explain  the  sun's 
motion  round  the  earth?"  says  he.  "I  could,"  says  I;  "but  I'd 
not  know  could  you  understand  me  or  not."  "Well,"  says  he, 
"we'll  see,"  says  he. 

Sure'n  I  didn't  know  anything  how  to  get  out  of  it  then;  so  I 
piled  in,  for,  says  I  to  meself,  never  let  on  to  anyone  that  you 
don't  know  anything,  but  make  them  believe  that  you  do  know  all 
about  it.  So,  says  I  to  him,  takin'  up  me  shillalah  this  way  (hold- 
ing up  a  very  crooked  stick  horizontally)  :  "We  will  take  that  for 


92  HUMOROUS    HITS 

the  straight  line  of  the  earth's  equator."  How's  that  for  gehogg- 
raphy?  {To  the  audience.)  Oh,  that  was  straight  till  the  other  day 
I  bent  it  in  an  argument. 

"Very  good"  says  he.  "Well,"  says  I,  "now  the  sun  rises  in  the 
east."  {Placing  the  disengaged  hand  at  the  eastern  end  of  the 
stick.)  Well,  he  couldn't  deny  that;  "and,"  says  I,  "he-he-he-rises 
in  the  mornin'."  No  more  could  he  deny  that.  "Very  early,"  says 
I;  "and  when  he  gets  up  he 

"  'Darts  liis  rosy  beams 
Through  the  mornin  '  gleams. '  ' ' 

Do  you  moine  the  poetry  there?  {To  the  audience,  with  a 
smile.)  "And  he  keeps  on  risin'  an'  risin'  till  he  reaches  his  me- 
ridan."  "What's  that?"  says  he.  "His  dinner-toime,"  says  I. 
"Sure'n  that's  my  Latin  for  dinner-time.  And  when  he  gets  his 
dinner 

' '  '  He  sinks  to  rest  . 

Behind  the  glorious  hills  of  the  west.'  " 

Oh,  begorra.  there's  more  poetry.  I  feel  it  croppin'  out  all 
over  me. 

"There,"  says  I,  well  satisfied  with  mesilf,  "will  that  do  for  ye?" 

"You  haven't  got  done  with  him,"  says  he. 

"Done  with  him?"  says  I,  kinder  mad-like.  "What  more  do  you 
want  me  to  do  with  him  ?  Didn't  I  bring  him  from  the  east  to  the 
west?  What  more  do  you  want?"  "Oh,"  says  he,  "you  have  to 
have  him  back  agin  in  the  east  the  next  mornin' !" 

By  Saint  Patrick,  and  wasn't  I  near  betrayin'  me  ignorance. 
Sure'n  I  thouglit  there  was  a  large  family  of  suns,  and  they  riz 
one  after  the  other;  but  I  gathei'cd  meself  quick,  and  says  I  to 
him,  "Well,"  says  I,  "I'm  surprized  you  ax  me  that  simple  ques- 
tion.    I  thought  any  man  'ud  know"  says  I,  "when  the  sun  sinks 

to  rest  in  the  west  that  er — when  the  sun "  says  I.     "You 

said  that  before"  says  he.  "Well,"  I  Avant  to  impress  it  strongly 
upon  you,"  says  I.  "When  the  sun  sinks  to  rest  behind  the  glo- 
rious hills  of  the  east — no,  west — why,  he — why,  he  waits  till  it 
grows  very  dark  and  then  he  goes  back  in  the  noight-toime!" 


HUMOROUS   HITS  93 

BELAGCHOLLY  DAYS 

ANONYMOUS 

Chilly  Dovebber  with  his  boadigg  blast 

Dow  cubs  add  strips  the  beddow  add  the  lawd, 
Eved  October's  suddy  days  are  past — 
Add  Subber's  gawd ! 

I  kdow  dot  what  it  is  to  which  I  cligg 

That  stirs  to  sogg  add  sorrow,  yet  I  trust 
That  still  I  sigg,  but  as  the  liddets  sigg — 
Because  I  bust. 

Add  dow,  farewell  to  roses  add  to  birds, 

To  larded  fields  and  tigkligg  streablets  eke; 
Farewell  to  all  articulated  words 
I  faid  would  speak. 

Farewell,  by  cherished  strolliggs  od  the  sward, 

Greed  glades  add  forest  shades,  farewell  to  you; 
With  sorrowing  heart  I,  wretched  add  forlord. 
Bid  you — achew !   !  ! 

A  PANTOMIME  SPEECH 

ANONYMOUS 

Have  you  ever  realized  what  a  funny  thing  it  is  to  see  a  lot  of 
people  talking  and  gesticulating  and  not  hear  a  single  sound  from 
them?  The  next  time  you  are  in  a  crowded  dining-room,  close 
your  ears  with  your  hands,  and  you  will  be  quickly  converted  to 
the  Darwinian  theory. 

This  was  forcibly  imprest  upon  my  mind  at  a  political  gather- 


94  HUMOROUS    HITS 

illy.  The  hall  was  very  large,  but  was  crowded  to  the  doors,  so 
that  when  I  reached  there  I  was  obliged  to  stand  outside  and  on 
my  toes  to  see  the  speakers.  Please  remember  that  altho  I  could 
in  this  way  distinctly  see  the  speakers,  I  was  too  far  away  to  hear 
the  slightest  sound.  It  was  simply  a  pantomime  jierformance  to 
me,  and  I  shall  tiy  to  give  you  a  faithful  representation  of  just 
what  I  saw. 

Simply  say:  "The  Chairman."  The  rest  is  pantomime.  Seat 
yourself  as  an  old  man,  put  your  right  hand  behind  your  ear  as 
if  listening  to  a  side  remark.  Repeat  to  the  left.  Evidently  some- 
one has  told  you  it  is  time  to  begin.  Take  out  your  watch  and 
compare  it  with  the  clock  on  the  wall  behind  you.  Bring  out  an 
imaginary  pair  of  spectacles,  clean  them  with  your  handkerchief, 
and  as  you  put  them  on  your  nose  draw  down  your  face  as  old 
men  do.  Get  up  with  seeming  difficulty.  The  business  here  is 
ad  lib.  Pomt  to  the  speaker  of  the  evening,  who  is  supposed  to 
be  sitting  at  your  right.  By  silent  movements  of  the  lips  seem  to 
introduce  him  to  the  audience.  Then  suddenly  remember  that  you 
have  something  else  to  say  just  as  you  are  about  to  sit  down. 
Repeat  this  two  or  three  times.  Then  sit  down  at  last  with  much 
difficuty. 

Then  say  aloud :  "The  Speaker."  Impersonate  liim  as  assuming 
a  gi'andiloquent  air.  While  he  speaks  in  pantomime  he  rises  on 
his  toes  and  makes  numerous  gestures.  He  pounds  fist  on  table. 
Someone  evidently  interrupts  liiai  from  the  audience.  He  looks 
in  that  direction  and  then  I'eplies.  He  seems  to  say  to  the  man  to 
come  up  on  the  platfonn  or  else  get  out  of  the  hall.  He  talks  for 
some  time  as  if  in  argument,  then  dodges  as  if  something  has  been 
thrown  at  him.  Two  or  three  times  he  has  to  dodge  in  this  way 
and  then  something  seems  to  have  struck  him  in  the  face.  He 
takes  out  his  handkerchief  and  wipes  off  face  and  coat.  Then 
things  are  thrown  at  him  from  right  and  left,  while  he  continues 
to  dodge.  At  last  they  come  so  thick  that  he  rushes  off  the  plat- 
fonn in  great  alarm. 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  95 

THE  ORIGINAL  LAMB 

ANONYMOUS 

Oh,  Mary  had  a  little  lamb,  regardmg  whose  euticular 
The  fluff  exterior  was  white  and  kinked  in  each  particular. 
On  each  occasion  when  the  lass  was  seen  perambulating, 
The  little  quadruped  likewise  was  there  a  gallivatmg. 

One  day  it  did  accompany  her  to  the  knowledge  dispensary, 
Which  to  every  rule  and  precedent  was  recklessly  contrary. 
Immediately  whereupon  the  pedagog  superior, 
Exasperated,  did  eject  the  lamb  from  the  interior. 

Then  Mary,  on  beholding  such  performance  arbitrary. 
Suffused  her  eyes  with  saline  drops  from  glands  called  lachrymary, 
And  all  the  pupils  grew  thereat  tumultuously  hilarious. 
And  speculated  on  the  case  with  wild  conjectures  various. 

"What  makes  the  lamb  love  Maiy  sof  the  scholars  asked  the 

teacher. 
He  paused  a  moment,  then  he  tried  to  diagnose  the  creature. 
"Oh,  pecus  amorem  Mary  habit  omnia  tcmporum." 
"Thanks,  teacher  dear,"  the  scholars  cried,  and  awe  crept  darkly 

o'er  'em. 


^      WHEN  PA  WAS  A  BOY 

BY   S.    E.   KISER 

I  wish  'at  I'd  of  been  here  when 

My  paw  he  was  a  boy; 
They  must  of  been  excitement  then — 

When  my  paw  was  a  boy. 
In  school  he  always  took  the  prize. 
He  used  to  lick  boys  twice  his  size — 
I  bet  folks  all  had  bulgin'  eyes 

When  my  paw  was  a  boy ! 


96  HUMOEOUS    HITS 

There  was  a  lot  of  wonders  done 

When  my  paw  was  a  boy; 
How  grandpa  must  have  loved  his  son, 

"When  my  paw  was  a  boy  ! 
He'd  git  the  coal  and  chop  the  wood. 
And  think  up  every  way  he  could 
To  always  just  be  sweet  and  good — ■ 

When  my  paw  was  a  boy ! 

Then  everything  was  in  its  place, 

When  my  paw  was  a  boy ; 
How  he  could  rassle,  jump  and  race, 

When  my  paw  was  a  boy ! 
He  never,  never  disobeyed; 
He  beat  in  every  game  he  played — 
Gee!  What  a  I'coord  there  was  made! 

When  my  paw  was  a  boy ! 

I  wish  'at  of  been  here  when 

My  paw  was  a  boy; 
They'll  never  be  his  like  agen — 

Paw  was  the  moddle  boy. 
But  still  last  night  I  lieard  my  maw 
Raise  up  her  voice  and  call  my  paw 
The  biggest  goose  she  ever  saw — 

He  ought  have  stayed  a  boy. 

By  permission  of  Messrs.  Forbes  &  Company,  Chicago. 

THE  FRECKLED-FACED  GIRL 
(She  entertains  a  visitor  while  her  mother  is  dressing) 

ANONYMOUS 

"Ma's  up-stairs  changing  her  dress,"  said  the  freckled-faced 
little  girl,  tymg  her  doll's  bonnet-strings  and  casting  her  eye  about 
for  a  tidy  large  enough  to  serve  as  a  shawl  for  that  double-jointed 
young  person. 

"Oh !  your  mother  meedn't  dress  up  for  me,"  replied  the  female 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  97 

agent  of  the  missionary  society,  taking  a  self-satisfied  ^'iew  of 
hei-self  in  the  mirror.  ''Run  up  and  tell  her  to  come  down  just 
as  she  is  in  her  eveiy-day  clothes,  and  not  stand  on  ceremony." 

"Oh!  but  she  hasn't  got  on  her  every-day  clothes.  Ma  was  all 
drest  up  in  her  new  brown  silk,  'cause  she  expected  Miss  Diamond 
to-day.  Miss  Diamond  always  comes  over  here  to  show  off  her 
nice  things,  and  ma  don't  mean  to  get  left.  When  ma  saw  you 
coming,  she  said,  'The  dickens !'  and  I  guess  she  was  mad  about 
something.  Ma  said  if  you  saw  her  new  dress  she'd  have  to  hear 
all  about  the  poor  heathen,  who  don't  have  silk,  and  you'd  ask  her 
for  more  mone.y  to  buy  hymn-books  to  send  to  'em.  Say,  do  the 
nigger  ladies  use  hymn-book  leaves  to  do  their  hair  up  and  make 
it  frizzy?  Ma  says  she  guesses  that's  all  the  good  the  books  do 
'em,  if  they  ever  get  any  books.    I  wish  my  doll  wa>;  a  heathen !" 

"Why,  you  wicked  little  girl,  why  do  you  want  a  heathen  doll?" 
inquired  the  missionary  lady,  taking  a  mental  inventory  of  the 
new  things  in  the  parlor  to  get  material  for  a  homily  on  worldly 
extravagance. 

"So  folks  would  send  her  lots  of  nice  things  to  wear,  and  feel 
soriy  to  have  her  going  about  naked.  I  ain't  a  wicked  girl,  either, 
'cause  Uncle  Dick — you  know  Uncle  Dick,  he's  been  out  West, 
and  he  says  I'm  a  holy  terror,  and  he  hopes  I'll  be  an  angel  pretty 
soon.  Ma'll  be  down  in  a  minute,  so  you  needn't  take  your  c!t)ak 
off.  She  said  she'd  box  my  ears  if  I  asked  you  to.  Ma's  putting 
on  that  old  dress  she  had  last  year,  'cause  she  said  she  didn't  want 
you  to  think  she  was  able  to  give  much  this  time,  and  she  needed 
a  new  muff  worse  than  the  queen  of  the  cannon-ball  islands  needed 
religion.  Uncle  Dick  says  you  ought  to  go  to  the  islands,  'cause 
you'd  be  safe  there,  and  the  natifs'd  be  sorry  they  was  such  .sin- 
ners if  anybody  would  send  you  to  'em.  fie  says  he  never  seen  a 
heathen  hungry  enough  to  eat  you  'less  'twas  a  blind  one,  and 
you'd  set  a  blind  pagan's  teeth  on  edge  so  he'd  never  hanker  after 
any  more  missionary.  Uncle  Dick's  awful  funny,  and  makes  pa 
and  ma  die  laughing  sometimes." 

"Your  Uncle  Richard  is  a  bad,  depraved  man,  and  ought  to  have 
remained  out  West,  where  his  style  is  appreciated.  He  sets  a  bad 
example  for  little  girls  like  you." 

"Oh!  I  think  he's  nice.    He  showed  me  how  to  slide  down  the 


98  HUMOROUS    HITS 

banisters,  and  he's  teaching  me  to  whistle  when  ma  ain't  'round. 
That's  a  pretty  cloak  you've  got,  ain't  it"?  Do  you  buy  all  your 
good  clothes  with  missionary  money  ?    Ma  says  you  do." 

Just  then  the  freckled-faced  little  girl's  ma  came  into  the  parlor 
and  kissed  the  missionary  lady  on  the  cheek,  and  said  she  was  de- 
lighted to  see  her,  and  they  proceeded  to  have  a  real  sociable  chat. 
The  little  girl's  ma  can't  understand  why  a  person  who  professes 
to  be  so  charitable  as  the  missionary  agent  does  should  go  right 
over  to  Miss  Diamond's  and  say  such  ill-natured  things  as  she  did, 
and  she  thinks  the  missionary  is  a  double-faced  gossip. 


WILLIE 

BY  MAX  EHRMANN 

A  little  boy  went  forth  to  school 

One  day  without  his  chum. 
The  teacher  said,  ''Why,  you're  alone ! 

Why  doesn't  Willie  come?" 
"0  Willie !"  sobbed  the  little  boy,— 

There  ain't  no  Willie  now." 
"What  do  you  mean?"  the  teacher  asked, 

With  puzzled,  knitted  brow. 
"Please,  sir,"  the  little  boy  replied, 

"We  made  a  bet  fur  fun, — 
Which  one  could  lean  the  farthest  out 

Our  attic, — Willie  won." 

AMATEUR  NIGHT 

ANONYMOUS 

It  was  one  of  those  little  evening  entertainments  where  every- 
one talks  at  once,  where  eveiyone  asks  ([uestions  and  does  not  wait 
for  an  answer.  Mrs.  Fitzgibbon,  the  hostess,  fhially  broke  into  the 
babble : 

"Sh !  I  want  you  all  to  be  very  quiet.  Mr.  Chooker — Mr.  Chook- 
er, — please  don't  talk, — don't  talk,  please, — Mr.  Chooker  is  very 


HUMOROUS   HITS  99 

excitable.  Chooker, — yes,  he  is  one  of  the  Chookers.  Young  peo- 
ple come  off  the  stairs.  Sh !  I  have  very  great  pleasure  in  intro- 
ducing to  you  Mr.  Chooker." 

Mr.  Chooker  came  forward  with  a  malicious  look,  which  seemed 
to  say,  "You  all  seem  to  be  veiy  happy, — veiy  jolly, — and  enjoy- 
ing yourselves.  Just  wait  a  bit.  I  am  about  to  recite  a  little 
poem  of  my  own  entitled,  'The  Triple  Suicide !' " 

Then  came  the  boy  of  the  family,  a  kind  of  child  prodigy,  who, 
after  giving  a  low  and  jerky  bow,  recited  as  follows :  {Here  im- 
personate a  boy  in  awkward  style.) 


"A  soldier  of  the  Legion  lay  dying  in  Algiers, 

There  was  lack  of  woman 's  nursing,  there  was  dearth  of  woman  '3 
tears; — there  was  dearth  of  woman's  tears."     (Stops.) 


"The  women  were  crj'ing,  you  know.  Some  were  crying  and 
others  were  weeping.  Those  that  weren't  weeping  were  crying!" 
{Pauses^  then  bows  low,  and  begins  again.) 


' '  A  soldier  of  the  Legion  lay  dying  in  Algiers, 

There  was  lack  of  woman's  nursing,  there  was  dearth  of  woman's 

tears ; 
But  a  comrade  stood  beside  him,  while  his  life-blood  ebbed  away — 
while   his  life-blood   ebbed  away, — while  his   life-blood   ebbed  away 


"His  blood  was  flowing  along,  you  know.    There  was  blood  here 

and  there.     There  w^as  blood  spattered  over  eveiything,  and " 

(Pauses  long,  bows  low,  and  begins  again  with  great  determinor 
tion  and  in  loud  voice.) 


"A  soldier  of  the  Legion  lay  dying  in  Algiers, 

There  was  lack  of  woman's  nursing,  there  was  dearth   of  woman's 

tears ; 
But  a  comrade  stood  beside  him,  while  his  life-blood  ebbed  away, — 
ebbed  away, — ebbed  away  (gradually  hegins  to  cry), — ebbed  away  (as 
if  speaking  to  someone  at  the  side) — eh!"     (Exits  slowly  with  hands 
at  eyes  silently  weeping.) 


100  HUMOROUS    HITS 

The  young  miss  of  the  family,  recently  graduated,  next  gave 
an  original  poem  entitled  "The  Hen,"  as  follows: 

"Tell  me  not  iu  mournful  numbers, 

Life  is  but  an  empty  dream!  — 
For  the  hen  is  dead  that  slumbers, 

And  things  are  not  what  they  seem. 

"Life  is  real,  life  is  earnest, 

And  the  shell  is  not  its  pen, 
Egg  thou  wort  and  egg  remaincst, 

Was  not  spoken  of  the  hen. 

"In  the  world's  broad  field  of  battle. 

In  the  great  barnyard  of  life. 
Be  not  like  those  lazy  cattle, 

Be  a  rooster  in  the  strife. 


*' Lives  of  roosters  all  remind  ua 
We  can  make  our  lives  sublime, 

And  when  roasted  leave  behind  us 
Hen-tracks  on  the  sands  of  time. 


"Hen-tracks  that  perhaps  another  chicken 

Drooping  idly  in  the  rain. 
Some  forlorn  and  henpecked  brother. 

When  he  sees  shall  crow  again. ' ' 

The  gem  of  the  evening,  however,  was  a  recitation  given  in 
fine  style  by  Mr.  Chilling-worth  Chubb.  He  had  rather  a  husky 
voice  and  a  wooden  arm.  His  memory,  moreover,  was  defective. 
The  effect  of  his  wooden  arm,  which  was  made  to  perform  the 
various  actions  of  a  real  one,  was  highly  amusing.  {Here  the  re- 
citer may  use  ''Excelsior,"  "The  Speech  of  Mark  Antony,"  or 
some  similar  selection.  The  left  arm  represents  the  wooden  one. 
The  hand  should  wear  a  right-hand,  white  kid  glove,  put  on  lorong 
way  round  xvith  the  finger-tips  screived  into  points.  The  arm 
should  be  assisted  in  all  its  movements  by  the  right  one.  It 
should  be  made  to  move  in  a  jerky  and  unnatural  manner  at  all 
its  joints.     A  violent  push  at  the  elbow  raises  it  suddenly  aloft, 


HUMOKOUS    HITS  101 

and  it  is  brought  again  to  the  side  by  a  tremendous  slap  from  the 
right  hand.  Finally,  the  arm  appears  to  get  out  of  order,  and 
moves  violently  in  all  directions,  until  at  last  the  right  hand,  after 
vainly  trying  to  reach  it,  pins  it  down  to  a  table  or  to  some  other 
object.  This  imitation  requires  considerable  practise,  but  'when 
properly  done  never  fails  to  send  an  audience  into  fits  of  laugh- 
ter.) 

BOUNDING  THE  UNITED  STATES 

BY  JOHN  FISKE 

Among  the  legends  of  our  late  Civil  War  there  is  a  story  of  a 
dinner-party,  given  by  the  Americans  residing  in  Paris,  at  which 
were  propounded  sundry  toasts  concerning  not  so  much  the  past 
and  present  as  the  expected  glories  of  the  American  nation.  In 
the  general  character  of  these  toasts,  geographical  considerations 
were  very  prominent,  and  the  principal  fact  which  seemed  to  oc- 
cupy the  minds  of  the  speakers  was  the  unprecedented  bigness  of 
our  countiy. 

"Here's  to  the  United  States  I"  said  the  first  speaker, — "bounded 
on  the  north  by  British  America,  on  the  south  by  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico,  on  the  east  by  the  Atlantic  Ocean,  and  on  the  west  by  the 
Pacific  Ocean!"  ''But,"  said  the  second  speaker,  "this  is  far  too 
limited  a  view  of  the  subject,  and,  in  assigning  our  boundaries, 
we  must  look  to  the  great  and  glorious  future,  which  is  prescribed 
for  us  by  the  manifest  destiny  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race.  Here's 
to  the  United  States! — bounded  on  the  north  by  the  North  Pole, 
on  the  east  by  the  rising,  and  on  the  west  by  the  setting,  sun !" 

Emphatic  applause  greeted  the  aspiring  prophecy.  But  here 
arose  the  third  speaker,  a  very  serious  gentleman,  from  the  far 
West.  "If  we  are  going,"  said  this  truly  patriotic  gentleman,  "to 
lessen  the  historic  past  and  present,  and  take  our  manifest  des- 
tiny into  account,  why  restrict  ourselves  within  the  narrow  limits 
assigned  by  our  fellow  counti-yman  who  has  just  sat  down?  I 
give  you  the  United  States ! — bounded  on  the  north  by  the  Aurora 
Borealis,  on  the  south  by  the  precession  of  the  equinoxes,  on  the 
east  by  the  primeval  chaos,  and  on  the  west  by  the  Day  of 
Judgment !" 


102  HUMOEOUS    HITS 


DER  DOG  UND  DER  LOBSTER 

AKONYMOUS 

Dot  dog,  he  vas  dot  kind  of  dog 

Vot  ketch  dot  ret  so  sly, 
Und  squeeze  him  mit  his  leedle  teeth, 

Und  den  dot  ret  vas  die. 

Dot  dog,  he  vas  onquisitive 

Vereffer  he  vas  go, 
Und  like  dot  voman,  all  der  time, 

Someding  he  vants  to  know. 

Yon  day,  all  by  dot  market  stand, 
Vere  fish  und  clams  dey  sell. 

Dot  dog  vas  poke  his  nose  aboud 
Und  find  out  vot  he  smell. 

Dot  lobster,  he  vas  dook  to  snooze 

Mit  vone  eye  open  vide, 
Und  ven  dot  dog  vas  come  along, 

Dot  lobster  he  vas  spied. 

Dot  dog,  he  smell  him  mit  his  noze 
Und  scratch  him  mit  his  paws, 

Und  push  dot  lobster  all  aboud, 
Und  vonder  vat  he  vas. 

Und  den  dot  lobster,  he  voke  up, 
Und  crawl  yoost  like  dot  snail, 

Und  make  vide  open  ov  his  claws, 
Und  grab  dot  doggie's  taU. 

Und  den  so  quick  as  neffer  vas, 

Dot  cry  vent  to  der  sky, 
Und  like  dot  swallows  vot  dey  sing, 

Dot  dog  vas  homevard  fly. 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  ,^  103 

Yoost  like  dot  thunderbolt  lie  vent — 

Der  sight  vas  awful  grand, 
Und  evei'y  street  dot  dog  vas  turn, 

Down  vent  dot  apple-stand. 

Der  children  cry,  der  vimniin  scream, 

Der  mens  fell  on  der  ground, 
Und  dot  boliceman  mit  his  club 

Yas  novare  to  pe  found. 

I  make  dot  run,  und  call  dot  dog, 

Und  vistle  awful  kind; 
Dot  makes  no  different  vot  I  say, 

Dot  dog  don't  look  pehind. 

Und  pooty  soon  dot  race  vas  end, 

Dot  dog  vas  lost  his  tail — 
Dot  lobster,  I  vas  took  him  home, 

Und  cook  him  in  dot  pail. 

Dot  moral  vas,  I  tole  you  'bond, 

Pefore  vas  neffer  known — 
Don't  vant  to  find  out  too  much  tings 

Dot  vasn't  ov  your  own. 


HE  LAUGHED  LAST 

ANONYMOUS 

A  young  man  was  sitting  in  the  Grand  Central  Depot  the  other 
day,  holding  a  baby  in  his  arms,  when  the  child  began  to  cry  so 
lustily  as  to  attract  the  attention  of  everyone  around  him.  By 
and  by  a  waiting  passenger  walked  over  to  him  with  a  smile  of 
pity  on  his  face  and  said : 

"A  woman  gave  you  that  baby  to  hold  while  she  went  to  see 
about  her  baggage,  didn't  she?" 

"Yes." 


104  ,  HUMOKOUS    HITS 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!  I  tumbled  to  the  fact  as  soon  as  I  saw  you. 
■^'ou  expect  her  back,  I  suppose?" 

"Of  course." 

"Ha !  ha !  ha !  This  is  rich !  Looking  for  her  every  minute, 
aren't  you?" 

"Yes,  and  I  think  she'll  come  back." 

"Well  this  makes  me  laugh, — ha !  ha !  ha !  I  had  a  woman  play 
that  same  trick  on  me  in  a  Chicago  depot  once,  but  no  one  ever 
will  again.  Young  man,  you've  been  plaj^ed  on  for  a  hayseed. 
I  would  advise  you  to  turn  that  babj^  over  to  a  policeman  and  get 
out  of  here  before  some  newspaper  reporter  gets  hold  of  you." 

"Oh,  she'll  come  back,  she'll  come  back." 

"She  will,  eh?  Ha!  ha!  ha!  The  joke  grows  richer  and  richer. 
Now  what  makes  you  think  she'll  come  back?"  , 

"Because  she's  my  wife  and  this  is  our  baby." 

"Oh — um — I  see,"  muttered  the  fat  man,  who  got  over  feeling 
tickled  all  at  once,  and  seeing  a  dog  that  a  farmer  had  tied  to 
one  of  the  seats  with  a  piece  of  clothes-line,  he  went  over  and 
gave  it  three  swift  kicks. 


NORAH  MURPHY  AND  THE  SPIRITS 

BY   HENRY   HATTON 

Miss  Honora  Murphy,  a  young  female  engaged  in  the  honorable 
and  praiseworthy  occupation  of  general  housework,  merely  to 
dispel  ennui,  not  hearing  in  some  time  from  the  "boy  at  home," 
to  whom  she  Avas  engaged  to  be  married,  was  advised  by  the  girl 
next  door  to  consult  the  spirits.  The  result  I  shall  give  as  de- 
tailed by  her  to  her  friend : 

"How  kem  I  by  the  black  eye?  Well,  dear,  I'll  tell  ye.  Afther 
what  yer  wur  tellin'  me,  I  niver  closed  me  eyes.  The  nixt  marnin' 
I  ast  Maggie,  the  up-stairs  gerrl,  where  was  herself.  'In  her  bood- 
oore,'  sez  Maggie,  an'  up  I  goes  to  her. 

"  'What's  wantin',  Nora  ?'  sez  she. 

"  'I've  heerd  as  how  me  cousin's  very  sick,'  sez  I,  'an'  I'm  that 
frettin'.  I  must  go  an'  see  her.' 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  105 

"  Titter  f  ui'  ye  to  go  ter  yer  worruk/  sez  she,  lookin'  mighty 
cross,  an'  she  the  lazy  hulks  as  niver  does  a  turn  from  mornin' 
till  night. 

"Well,  dear,  I  niver  takes  sass  from  anny  av  'em ;  so  I  ups  an' 
tould  her,  'Sorra  taste  av  worruk  I'll  do  the  day,  an'  av  yer  don't 
like  it,  yer  can  find  some  one  else,'  an'  I  flounced  mesel'  out  av 
the  boodoore. 

"Well,  I  wint  to  me  room  ter  dress  mesel',  an'  whin  I  got  on 
me  sale-shkin  sack,  I  thought  av  me  poor  ould  mother — may  the 
hivins  be  her  bed ! — could  only  see  me,  how  kilt  she'd  be  intoirely. 
Whin  I  was  drest  I  wint  down-stairs  an'  out  the  front-doore,  an' 
I  tell  yer  I  slammed  it  well  after  me. 

"Well,  me  dear,  whin  I  got  ter  the  majum's,  a  big  chap  wid 
long  hair  and  a  baird  like  a  billy-goat  kem  inter  the  room. 
Sez  he : 

"  'Do  yer  want  ter  see  the  majum?' 

"  'I  do,'  sez  I. 

"  'Two  dollars,'  sez  he. 

"'For  what?'  sez  I. 

"  'For  the  sayants,'  sez  he. 

"  'Faix,  it's  no  aunts  I  want  ter  see,'  sez  I,  'but  Luke  Corri- 
gan's  own  self.'  Well,  me  dear,  wid  that  he  giv  a  laugh  ye'd 
think  would  riz  the  roof. 

"  'Is  he  yer  husband  V  sez  he. 

"  'It's  mighty  'quisitive  ye  are,'  sez  I,  'but  he's  not  me  husband, 
av  yer  want  ter  know,  but  I  want  ter  larn  av  it's  alive  or  dead 
he  is,  which  the  Lord  forbid !' 

"  'Yer  jist  in  the  nict  o'  time,'  sez  he. 

"  'Faix,  Ould  Nick's  here  all  the  time,  I'm  thinkin',  from  what 
I  hear,'  sez  I. 

"Well,  ter  make  a  long  story  short,  I  paid  me  two  dollars,  an' 
wint  into  another  room,  an'  if  ye'd  guess  from  now  till  Aisther, 
ye'd  never  think  what  the  majum  was.  As  I'm  standin'  here, 
'twas  nothin'  but  a  woman!  I  was  that  bet,  I  was  almost  spache- 
less. 

"  'Be  sated,  madam,'  sez  she,  p'intin'  to  a  chair,  'yer  must  jine 
the  circle.' 

"  'Faix,  I'll  ate  a  triangle,  av  yer  wish,'  sez  I. 


106  HUMOROL'S    HITS 

"  'Yer  must  be  very  quiet/  sez  she.  An'  so  I  set  down  along 
a  lot  av  other  folks  at  a  table. 

"  'First  I'll  sing  a  hymn/  sez  the  majum,  'an'  thin  do  all  yees 
jine  in  the  chorus.' 

"  'Yer  must  excuse  me,  mum/  sez  I.  'I  niver  could  smg,  but 
rather  than  spile  the  divarshun  of  the  company,  av  any  wan'll 
whistle,  I'll  dance  as  purty  a  jig  as  ye'U  see  from  here  to  Bal'na- 
sloe,  tho  it's  meself  as  sez  it.' 

"Two  young  whipper-snappers  begun  ter  laugh,  but  the  look 
I  gev  them  shut  them  up. 

"Jist  then,  the  big  chap  as  had  me  two  dollars  kem  into  the 
room  an'  turned  down  the  lights.  In  a  minit  the  majum,  shtiekin' 
her  face  close  to  me  own,  whispers: 

"  'The  sperrits.is  about — ^I  kin  feel  them!' 

"  'Thrue  for  you,  mum,'  sez  I,  'fur  I  kin  shmell  them !' 

"  'Hush,  the  influence  is  an  me,'  sez  the  majum.  'I  kin  see  the 
lion  an'  the  lamb  lying  down  together.' 

"  'Bedad  !  it's  like  a  wild  beastess  show,'  sez  I. 

"'Will  yer  be  quiet?'  sez  an  ould  chap  next  ter  me.  'I  hev  a 
question  to  ax.' 

"  'Ax  yer  question/  sez  I,  'an'  I'll  ax  mine.  I  paid  me  two 
dollars,  an'  I'll  not  be  put  down.' 

"  'Plaze  be  quiet/  sez  the  majum,  'or  the  sperrits  '11  lave/ 

"Jist  then  came  a  rap  on  the  table. 

"  'Is  that  the  sperrit  of  Luke  Corrigan?'  sez  the  majum. 

"  'It  is  not,'  sez  I,  'for  he  could  bate  any  boy  in  Killballyowen, 
an'  if  his  fisht  hit  that  table  'twould  knock  it  to  smithereens.' 

"  'Whist !'  sez  the  majum,  'it's  John  Bunion.' 

"  'Ax  him  'bout  his  progress,'  sez  a  woman  wid  a  face  like  a 
bowl  of  stirabout. 

"  'Ah,  batherashin !'  sez  I.  'Let  John's  bunion  alone,  an'  bring 
Luke  Corrigan  to  the  fore.' 

"'Hish!'  whispers  the  majum,  'I  feel  a  sperrit  near  me.' 

"  'Feel  av  it  has  a  lump  on  his  nose,'  sez  I,  'for  be  that  token 
ye'll  know  it's  Luke.' 

"  'The  moment  is  suspicious,'  sez  the  majum. 

"  'I  hope  yer  dont  want  to  asperge  me  character,'  sez  I. 

"  'Whist !'  sez  she,  'the  sperrits  is  droopin'.' 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  107 

"  'It's  droppin'  yer  mane,'  sez  I,  ijiekin'  up  a  shmall  bottle  she 
let  fall  from  her  pocket. 

''  'Put  that  woman  out,'  sez  an  ould  chap. 

"  'Who  do  you  call  a  woman  V  sez  I.  'Lay  a  fing-er  on  me, 
an'  I'll  scratch  a  map  of  the  County  Clare  on  yer  ugly  phiz.' 

"  'Put  her  out !'  'Put  her  out !'  sez  two  or  three  others,  an' 
they  made  a  lep  for  me.    But,  holy  rocket !  I  was  up  in  a  minute. 

"  'Bring  on  yer  fightin'  sperrits,'  I  cried,  'from  Julis  Sazar  to 
Tim  Macould,  an'  I'll  bate  them  all,  for  the  gloi*y  of  Ireland !' 

"The  big  chap  as  had  me  money  kem  behind  me,  and  put  his 
elbow  in  me  eye;  but,  me  jewel,  I  tossed  him  over  as  ef  he'd  bin 
a  feather,  an'  the  money  rolled  oiit  his  pocket.  Wid  a  cry  of 
'Faugh-a-ballah !'  I  grabbed  six  dollars,  runned  out  av  the  doore, 
an'  I'll  niver  put  fut  in  the  house  again.  An'  that's  how  I  kem 
be  the  black  eye." 


OPIE  READ 

BY   WALLACE   BRUCE   AMSBARY 

Dis  language  Anglaise  dat  dey  spe'k, 

On  State  of  Illinois, 
Is  hard  for  Frenchmen  heem  to  learn, 

It  give  me  moch  annoy. 
Las'  w'ek  ma  frien',  MeGoverane 

He  com'  to  me  an'  say : 
"You  mak'  a  toas'  on  Opie  Read 

Wen  dey  geeve  gran'  banqay." 

"I  mak'  a  toas'  ?    Not  on  your  life ! 

Dat  man's  wan  frien'  of  me. 
Wat  for  I  wami  heem  op  lak'  toas'? 

De  reason  I  can't  see." 
An'  den  John  laugh  out  on  hees  eye 

Wen  he  is  to  me  say : 
"To  mak'  a  toas'  is  not  a  roas', 

It's  jus'  de  odder  way." 


108  HUMOROUS    HITS 

Dat'ir'  how  1  loam  dat  toas'  an'  loas' 

Is  call  by  different  name, 
Dough  hot'  are  warm  in  dere  own  way, 

Dere  far  from  mean  de  same. 
An'  so,  ma  frien',  in  lof  I  clasp 

Your  gr'ad,  beeg,  braw'ny  han', 
An'  share  vit  you  in  fellowship, 

An'  pay  you  on  deman'. 

You're  built  upon  a  ver'  large  plan, 

Overe  seex  feet  you  rise : 
You  need  it  all  to  shelter  in 

Your  heart  dat's  double  size. 
You  are  too  broad  for  narrow  t'ings, 

You  gr'ad  for  any  creed; 
I'll  eat  de  roas',  but  drink  de  toas', 

To  ma  frien',  Opie  Read. 


THE  VILLAGE  CHOIR 
After    the    Charge    of    the    Light    Brigade 

ANONYMOUS 

Half  a  bar,  half  a  bar, 

Half  a  bar  onward  ! 

Into  an  awful  ditch 
Choir  and  jDrecentor  hitch, 
Into  a  mess  of  pitch, 

They  led  the  Old  Hundred. 
Trebles  to  right  of  them, 
Tenors  to  left  of  them, 
Basses  in  front  of  them, 

Bellowed  and  thundered. 
Oh,  that  precentor's  look, 
When  the  sopranos  took 
Their  own  time  and  hook 

From  the  Old  Hundred ! 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  109 

Screeched  all  the  trebles  here, 
Boggled  the  tenors  there, 
Raismg  the  parson's  hair, 

While  his  mmd  wandered; 
Theirs  not  to  reason  why 
This  psalm  was  pitched  too  high: 
Theirs  but  to  gasp  and  ciy 

Out  the  Old  Hundred. 
Trebles  to  right  of  them, 
Tenors  to  left  of  them. 
Basses  in  front  of  them, 

Bellowed  and  thundered. 
Stormed  they  with  shout  and  yell, 
Not  wise  they  sang  nor  well. 
Drowning  the  sexton's  bell, 
While  all  the  church  wondered. 

Dire  the  precentor's  glare, 
Flashed  his  pitchfork  in  air. 
Sounding  fresh  keys  to  bear 

Outthe  Old  Hundred. 
Swiftly  he  turned  his  back. 
Reached  he  his  hat  from  rack, 
Then  from  the  screaming  pack, 

Himself  he  sundered. 
Tenors  to  right  of  him. 
Tenors  to  left  of  him, 
Discords  behind  him. 

Bellowed  and  thundered. 
Oh,  the  wild  howls  they  wrought: 
Eight  to  the  end  they  fought ! 
Some  tune  they  sang,  but  not, 

Not  the  Old  Hundred. 


110  HUMOROUS    HITS 

BILLY  OF  NEBRASKA 

BY    J.    W.   BENGOUGH 

Twas  out  in  Nebraska — a  town  they  call  Lincoln, 
(I  but  mention  the  place,  and  everyone's  thinkin' 
Of  W.  J.  B.,  the  favorite  son. 
Who  twice  for  the  Washington  sweepstakes  has  run), 


But  this  is  not  a  political  story. 

And  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  Silver  question, 
Or  Rate-bills,  or  Trusts,  or  even  Old  Glory, — 

Tho  Bryan's  name  may  start  the  suggestion; 
And  he,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  is  the  source 
Of  the  tale,  which  makes  it  much  better,  of  course; 

For  it  goes  to  show 

What  some  may  be  slow 
To  believe, — that  this  Democrat,  earnest  and  stern, 
On  whose  lips  the  eloquent  sentences  burn. 
And  who  never  is  known  to  drink  or  to  smoke, 
Has  a  fondness  for  fun  and  enjoys  a  good  joke. 


It  appears  that  Billy — if  I  may  make  free, 

(Like  the  G,  0.  P.  press)  with  the  Commoner's  name- 
Kept  a  goat,  with  a  cognomen  just  the  same, 

(At  least  I  suppose  such  was  likely  to  be. 

For  Billy's  the  name  of  each  goat  that  is  Tie) ; 
And  I  likewise  supi')ose, 
(Tho  nobody  knows) 

That  William's  idea  in  keeping  a  goat 

Was  to  make  himself  sound  with  the  shantytown  vote; 
But  be  that  as  it  may, 
It  happened  one  day 

That  he  went  to  the  court-house,  did  W.  J., — 


HUMOROUS    HITS  m 

To  lodge  in  due  foiin  a  complaint — to  protest 
'Gainst  the  manner  in  which  his  estate  was  assessed; 

And  especially  to  kick 
(For  even  a  peace-arbitrationist  hollers 

When  you  cut  to  the  quick)  — 
To  kick  'gainst  the  taxing  at  twenty-five  dollars 
Of  Billy  the  goat.    "I  say  it's  too  much," 
Cries  Bryan,  "and  savors  of  kingcraft  and  such! 
Tax-dodgmg's  a  thing  I  abhor,  but  I  swear 
This  tax  is  unrighteous,  unjust,  and  unfair;^ 
'Tis  a  tax  moi-e  odious  than  taxes  on  tea, 
And  illegal,  moreover,  for  I  fail  to  see 
Where  the  law  gives  you  power  to  impose  such  a  rate, 
For  the  statutes  don't  say  that  a  goat's  real  estate. 
I  stand  on  my  rights!" — Here  he  threw  back  his  coat, 

And  like  Hampton  of  old 

Stood  up  brave  and  bold, 
"I  refuse,"  he  declared,  "to  be  taxed  for  my  goat!'* 

The  assessor,  a  gentle  and  mild-faced  old  chap, 

Most  anxious  to  do  only  that  which  was  right. 

Grew  pale  with  affright 
When  he  saw  the  great  orators  angiy  eyes  snapj 

But  he  ventured  to   speak 

In  a  mild  little  squeak, 
"If  you  will  excuse  me,  I  think  you're  astray  ;J 
The  rules  'nd  riglations  is  printed  that  way; 
And  I  haint  did  nothin'  but  what  I  am  bid; 
I  done  it  this  year  as  I  always  have  did; 

Here's  the  book; 

Take  a  look. 
And  read  for  yerself  how  the  law  sets  it  out, 
And  I  guess  you  will  see  I  know  what  I'm  about. 

"Your  goat  he  runs  on  the  highway,  I  guess?" 

"Well,  yes,  I  suppose," 

Says  Bryan,  "he  does." 
"And  he  butts,  I  presume,  don't  he,  now,  more  or  less?" 


112 


HUMOROUS   HITS 

"Yes,"  says  Bryan,  "no  doubt 

He  butts  when  he's  out, 
But  what  has  that  got  to  do  witli " 

"See  here!" 
Says  the  old  man,  as  one  who  had  made  his  point  clear: 
"I  calk'late,  mister,  you  hain't  read  the  laws, 
If  you'll  just  take  a  look  at  this  here  little  clause; 
Where  the  duties  of  'sessors  it  specially  notes; 

It  says,  as  you  see, 

Tax  all  property 
Bunnin'  and  a-buttin'  on  the  highway! 
And  that  has  jest  exactly  bin  my  way; 

And  the  'pinion's  sound  as  oats 

That  it  taxes  on  billy-goats 
So  you  can't  git  out  o'  payin'  in  such  a  sly  way !" 


DOT  LAMBS  VOT  MARY  HAF  GOT 

ANONYMOUS 

Mary  haf  got  a  leetle  lambs  already ; 
Dose  vool  vas  vite  like  shnow ; 
Und  efery  times  dot  Mary  dit  vent  oued, 
Dot  lambs  vent  also  oued  mit  Maiy. 

Dot  lambs  did  follow  Mary  von  day  of  der  schoolhouse, 

Vieh  vas  obbosition  to  der  rules  of  der  schoolmaster, 

Also,  vich  it  dit  caused  dose  seliillen  to  schmile  out  loud, 

Ven  dey  dit  saw  dose  lambs  on  der  inside  of  der  schoolhouse 

Und  zo  dot  schoolmaster  dit  kick  dot  lambs  quick  oued, 
Likevize,  dot  lambs  dit  loaf  around  on  der  outsides, 
Und  did  shoo  der  flies  mit  his  tail  off  patiently  bound, 
Until  Mary  dit  come  also  from  dot  schoolhouse  oued. 


HUMOROUS  HITS  113 

Und  den  dot  lambs  dit  run  right  away  quick  to  Mary, 
Und  dit  make  his  het  on  Mary's  arms, 
Like  he  would  say,  "I  doand  vas  sehkared, 
Mary  would  keep  from  drouble  ena  how." 

"Vot  vas  der  reason  aboud  it,  of  dot  lambs  und  Marvf" 
Dose  schillen  dit  ask  it  dot  schoolmaster; 
Veil,  doand  you  know  it,  dot  Mary  lov  dose  lambs  already, 
Dot  schoolmaster  dit  zaid. 

Moral 
Und  zo,  alzo,  dot  moral  vaz. 
Boned  Mary's  lamb's  relations; 
Of  you  lofe  dese  like  she  lofe  dose. 
Dot  lambs  vas  obligations. 


GEORGA  WASHINGDONE 

ANONYMOUS 

Georga  Washingdone  vos  a  vera  gooda  man.  Hees  fadda  he 
keepa  bigga  place  in  Washingdone  Street.  He  hada  a  greata 
bigga  lot  planta  wees  cherra,  peaeha,  pluma,  chesnutta,  peanutta, 
an'  banan  trees.  He  sella  to  mena  keepa  de  standa.  Gooda  mana 
to  Italia  mana  was  Georga  Washingdone.  He  hata  de  Irish. 
Kieka  dem  vay  lika  dees. 

One  tay  wen  litta  Georga,  hees  son,  vos  dessa  high,  like  de  hoppa- 
grass,  he  take  hees  litta  hatchet  an'  he  beginna  to  fool  round  de 
place.  He  vos  vera  fresh,  vos  litta  Georga.  Poota  soon  he  cutta 
downa  de  cherra  tree  lika  dees.  Dat  spoila  de  cherra  cropa  for 
de  season.  Den  he  goa  round  trea  killa  de  banan  an'  de  peanutta. 

Poota  soon  Georga's  fadda  coma  rounda  quicka  lika  dees.  Den 
he  lifta  uppa  hees  fista  looka  lika  big  bunch  a  banan,  an'  he  vos 
just  go  in'  to  giva  litta  Georga  de  smaka  de  snoota  if  he  tola  lie. 
Hees  eyes  blaze  lika  dees. 

Litta  Georga  he  say  in  hees  minda,  "1  gitta  puncha  anyhow, 


114  HUMOROUS  HITS 

so  I  tella  de  square  tiiig."  So  he  holda  up  bees  litta  hands  lika 
dees,  an'  he  calla  "Tima!" 

Den  he  says,  'Tadda,  I  cutta  de  cherra  tree  weesa  mia  own 
litta  hatchet !" 

Hees  f adda  he  say,  "Coma  to  de  barn  weesa  me !  Litta  Georga, 
I  wanta  speeka  weesa  you  !" 

Den  bees  fadda  cutta  big  club,  an'  he  spitta  hees  banda,  lika 
dees! 

Litta  Georga  say,  "Fadda,  I  could  notta  tella  de  lie,  because  I 
knowa  you  caughta  me  deada  to  rights !" 

Den  de  olda  man  he  smila  lika  dees,  an'  he  tooka  litta  Georga 
righta  down  to  Wall  Street,  an'  made  him  a  present  of  de  United 
States ! 


DA  'MERICANA  GIRL 

BY  T.   A.   DALY 

I  gatta  mash  weeth  Mag  MeCue, 

An'  she  ees  'Mericana,  too ! 

Ha!  w'at  you  theenk?    Now  mebbe  so, 

You  weell  no  calla  me  so  slow 

Eef  som'  time  you  can  looka  see 

How  she  ees  com'  an'  flirt  weeth  me. 

Most  evra  two,  t'ree  day,  my  fraud, 

She  stop  by  dees  peanutta-stand 

An'  smile  an'  mak'  do  googla-eye 

An'  justa  look  at  me  an'  sigh. 

An'  alia  time  she  so  excite' 

She  peeek  som'  fruit  an'  taka  bite. 

0  !  my,  she  eesa  look  so  sweet 

1  no  care  bow  much  fruit  she  eat. 
Me?  I  am  cool  an'  mak'  pretand 
I  want  no  more  dan  be  her  fraud ; 
But  een  my  heart,  you  bat  my  life, 
I  tbeenk  of  her  for  be  my  wife. 
To-day  I  tbeenk:  "Now  I  weell  see 
How  moocha  she  ees  mash  weeth  me," 


HUMOROUS   HITS  115 

An'  so  I  speak  of  dees  an'  dat, 
How  moocha  playnta  mon'  I  gat, 
How  mooch  I  makin'  evra  day 
An'  w'at  I  spend  an'  put  away. 
An'  den  I  ask,  so  queeck,  so  sly: 
"You  theenk  som'  pretta  girl  weell  try 
For  lovin'  me  a  leetla  beet?" — 
O !  my !  she  eesa  blush  so  sweet ! — 
"An'  eef  I  ask  her  lika  dees 
For  geevin'  me  a  leetla  keess, 
You  s'pose  she  geeve  me  wan  or  two?" 
She  tal  me :    "Twanty-t'ree  for  you  !" 
An'  den  she  laugh  so  sweet,  an'  say : 
"Skeeddoo !   Skeeddoo !"  an'  run  away. 

She  like  so  mooch  for  keessa  me 

She  gona  geev  me  twanty-t'ree ! 

I  s'pose  dat  w'at  she  say — "skeeddoo" — 

Ees  alia  same  "I  lova  you." 

Ha !  w'at  you  theenk !  Now,  mebbe  so 

You  weell  no  calla  me  so  slow ! 


BECKY  MILLER 

ANONYMOUS 

I  don'd  lofe  you  now  von  schmall  little  bit, 
My  dream  vas  blayed  oudt,  so  blease  git  up  and  git, 
Your  f alse-heardted  vays  I  can't  got  along  mit — 
Go  vay,  Becky  Miller,  go  vay ! 

Vas  all  der  young  vomans  so  false-heardted  like  you, 
Mit  a  face  so  bright,  but  a  heart  black  and  plue, 
Und  all  der  vhile  schworing  you  lofed  me  so  drue — 
Go  vay,  Becky  Miller,  go  vay ! 


116  HUMOEOUS    HITS 

Vy,  vonce  I  fought  you  vas  a  slitar  vay  up  high ; 
I  like  you  so  better  as  gogonut  hie ; 
But  oh,  Becky  Miller,  you  hafe  pro  fed  von  big  lie — 
Go  vay,  Becky  Miller,  go  vay! 

You  (look  all  de  bresents  vat  I  did  bresent, 
Yes,  gobbled  up  efery  virst  thing  vot  I  sent; 
All  der  vhile  mit  anoder  rooster  you  vent — 
Go  vay,  Becky  Miller,  go  vay! 

Vhen  first  I  found  oudt  you  vas  such  a  big  lie, 
I  didn't  know  vedder  to  schmudder  or  die; 
Bud  now,  by  der  chingo,  I  don't  efen  cry — 
Go  vay,  Becky  Miller,  go  vay! 

Don'd  diy  make  belief  you  vas  sorry  aboudt, 
I  don'd  belief  a  dings  vot  comes  oudt  by  your  moudt; 
Und  besides  I  don'd  care,  for  you  vas  blayed  oudt — 
Go  vay,  Becky  Miller,  go  vay! 

P,  S.  (pooty  short) — Veil,  he  dold  Becky  to  go  avay  enough 
dimes,  enner  how.  I  dinks  he  vas  an  uckly  vellow.  Veil,  ber- 
haps  dot  serfs  Becky  choost  right  for  daking  bresents  from  von 
vellow,  vhile  she  vas  vinking  her  nose  by  anoder  vellow. 


PAT   AND   THE   MAYOR 

ANONYMOUS 

An  Irishman  named  Patrick  Maloney,  recently  landed,  called 
upon  the  mayor  to  see  if  he  could  give  him  a  position  on  the 
police  force.  The  mayor,  thinking  he  would  have  some  fun  with 
him,  said : 

"Before  I  can  do  anything  for  you,  you  will  have  to  pass  a 
Civil  Service  examination." 

"Ah,  dthin,"  said  Pat,  "and  pfhat  is  the  Civil  Sarvice?" 

"It  means  that  you  must  answer  three  questions  I  put  to  you, 
and  if  you  answer  them  coi-rectly  I  may  be  able  to  place  you." 


HUMOROUS    HITS  117 

"Well/'  said  Pat,  "I  think  I  can  answer  dthim  if  they're  not 
too  hard." 

"The  first  question  is,  'What  is  the  weight  of  the  moon?'" 

"Ah,  now,  how  can  I  tell  you  that?     Shure  and  I  don't  know." 

"Well,  try  the  second  one,  'Hoav  many  stars  are  in  the  sky?'" 

"Now  you're  pokin'  fun  at  me.  How  do  I  know  how  many 
stars  there  are  in  the  slilcy?" 

"Then  try  the  third  question,  and  if  you  answer  it  correctly 
I'll  forgive  you  the  others,  "'What  am  I  thinking-  of  ?' " 

"Pfhat  are  you  thinkin'  of?  Shure,  how  can  any  man  tell 
what  you  politicians  are  thinkin'  about.  Bedad  I  don't  belave 
you  know  pfhat  you're  thinkin'  about  yourself.  I  guess  I'll  be 
lookin'  for  work  ilsewhere,  so  good-day  to  you !" 

The  mayor  called  Pat  back  and  told  him  not  to  be  discouraged, 
but  to  go  home  and  think  about  it,  and  if  on  the  morrow  he 
thought  he  could  answer  the  questions  to  come  down  again  and  he 
would  give  him  another  chance. 

So  Pat  went  home  and  told  his  brother  Mike  about  it,  where- 
upon Mike  said: 

"Now  you  give  me  dthim  clothes  of  yours  and  I'll  go  down  and 
answer  his  questions  for  him." 

So  next  morning  Mike  went  down  bright  and  early,  and  the 
mayor  recognizing  Patrick  as  he  thought,  said : 

"Ah,  good  morning,  Patrick.  Have  you  really  come  back  to 
answer  those  three  questions  I  put  to  you  yesterday?" 

"Yis,  I  have." 

"Well  the  first  question  is,  'What  is  the  weight  of  the  moon  ?'  " 

"The  weight  of  the  moon  is  one  hundred  pounds,  twenty-five 
pounds  to  each  quarther,  four  quarthers  make  one  hundred." 

"Capital,  Patrick,  capital!  Now  the  second  question  is,  'How 
many  stars  are  in  the  sky  V  " 

"How  many  shtars  are  in  the  shky?  There  are  four  billion, 
sivin  million,  noine  hmidred  and  thirty-two  tousand  and  one." 

"Splendid,  Patrick,  splendid.  Now  look  out  for  the  last  ques- 
tion which  is,  'What  am  I  thinking  of  ?' " 

"Pfhat  are  you  thinkin'  of?  Well  I  know  pfhat  you're  thinkm' 
of.  You're  thinkin'  I'm  Pat,  but  you're  tirribly  mistakin';  I'm 
It  is  brother  Mike!" 


118  HUMOROUS    HITS 


THE  LIVERWING  TESTIMONIAL 

BY     M.     B.     SPURB 

Lord  Livei'wing,  the  eldest  sou  of  the  Duke  of  Goosefield,  had 
represeuted  that  borough  for  lifteeu  years  iu  Parliameut,  aud 
had  faithfully  carried  out  its  traditions  in  the  House  by  sleeping 
for  it  through  the  changing  sessions.  He  once  woke  up,  hoAvever, 
in  time  to  introduce  a  bill  for  the  better  protection  aud  preserva- 
tion of  crabs.  He  was  now  about  to  retire  into  private  life,  the 
strain  upon  his  mental  faculties,  in  the  matter  of  those  crabs, 
having  proved  too  much  for  his  intellect. 

A  public  meeting  was  held  to  consider  how  most  fittingly  to 
commemorate  the  propitious  event  of  his  lordship's  retirement, 
and  it  was  resolved  thereat  that  a  testimonial  should  be  presented 
to  his  lordship  for  his  efforts  on  their  behalf  in  the  past,  and  also 
for  the  inestimable  boon  he  was  about  to  confer  uj^on  them  by 
retiring.  A  committee  was  appointed  to  decide  what  fonn  this 
testimonial  should  take,  and  a  subscription  list  was  opened,  which 
was  immediately  filled  in,  everybody  being  anxious  that  his  lord- 
ship should  have  no  opportunity  of  drawing  back.  The  com- 
mittee, which  consisted  of  the  leading  tradespeople  of  the  town, 
met  in  a  room  at  the  "Golden  Eggs,"  the  chief  hotel  in  Goose- 
field.  The  question  was  what  particular  form  the  presentation 
was  to  take.  Peggs,  the  tailor,  was  the  first  to  make  a  suggestion. 
He  thought  that  a  series  of  seven  suits  of  clothes  would  be  a  very 
suitable  present,  and  he  would  suggest  that  they  would  consist 
of  a  hunting,  a  riding,  a  bicycling,  a  lawn-tennis,  a  shooting 
and  a  morning  and  evening  dress.  Also,  he  would  be  glad  to 
make  the  suits  himself !  Upon  this,  up  rose  Sands,  the  grocer, 
who  observed  that  he  had  once  a  suit  of  clothes  made  for  him 
by  Peggs,  and  if  the  suits  to  be  made  for  his  lordship  didn't  fit 
him  any  better  than  his  did,  the  only  fit  his  lordship  would  be 
likely  to  have  was  an  apoplectic  one.  Now,  he  could  impartially 
recommend  as  a  neat  little  present  a  stone — or  more,  if  required — 
of  his  own  unapproachable  Gorgonzola  cheese.  This  drew  out  Mr. 
Squills,  the  chemist,  who  stated  that  anyone  who  had  ever  got 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  119 

withiu  range  of  the  aforesaid  caeese  would  be  quite  ready  to 
grant  its  unapproachableness  at  any  rate,  from  one  point  of  view. 
He  thought  that  a  more  appreciable  present  would  be  a  com- 
plete medicine  chest — he  would  be  glad  to  supply  one  of  his  own, 
on  the  usual  terms — to  protect  his  lordship  fi'om  and  against 
all  forms  of  disease  whatever.  Mr.  Forceps,  the  dentist,  was  re- 
marking that  he  was  not  aware  that  his  lordship  was  suffering 
from  any  form  or  kind  of  disease  whatever,  unless  he  had  been 
rashly  sampling  one  of  Mr.  Squill's  medicine  chests,  and  was 
proceeding  to  propose  that  he  should  extract  all  his  lordship's 
remaining  teeth,  and  should  aftenvard  supply  him  with  a  fresh 
set,  gold-mounted,  patent  swivel-pattern,  and  jeweled  in  seven 
holes — when  everyone  seemed  to  have  lost  his  temper.  The  heated 
discussion  was  eventually  calmed  by  the  chairman — the  only 
person  not  in  trade  on  the  committee ! — who  informed  his  brother 
members  that  he  had  observed  in  a  certain  jeweler's  window  a 
silver  toothpick,  chastely  and  elaborately  mounted,  and  a  cheese- 
toaster  of  remarkable  elegance  and  beauty  of  design.  He  further 
informed  them  that  these  articles  could  be  had  cheap,  which  would, 
of  course,  allow  of  greater  latitude  Avhen  considering  the  expenses 
of  the  committee.  This  shot  went  home,  and  so  did  the  committee. 
The  chairman,  who  was  accustomed  to  act  as  foreman  of  the  jury 
on  the  town  inquests,  proposed  that  they  should  now  adjourn 
and  view  the  body — he  meant  the  articles  in  question — so  they 
left  for  the  purpose  of  doing  so,  and  subsequently  made  arrange- 
ments for  the  purchase  of  the  toothpick  and  toaster,  in  due 
course. 

At  last  the  memorable  day  arrived.  In  the  evening  the  town- 
hall  was  filled  to  overflowing  with  a  motley  crowd,  while  on  the 
platform  sat  a  brilliant  gathering  of  the  lions  of  the  borough, 
among  them  being  Sir  Blinkaby  Owlbush,  the  Honorable  Augustus 
Fitz-Gizzard,  Mr.  Jorkins,  Mr.  Cagmag,  Mr.  Wattles,  Mr.  Pottles, 
Lady  Liverwing,  Lady  Owlbush,  Mrs.  Tubbs  and  her  six  daughters 
(all  in  lavender),  Mrs.  Fubbs,  Miss  Fubbs,  Mrs.  "Wattles,  Mrs. 
Pottles,  and  ]\Iiss  Gosling. 

Amid  loud  and  prolonged  cheering.  Sir  Blinkaby  Owlbusn  rose 
to  make  the  presentation.    He  said : 

"It  gives  me  great  pleasure  to  assist  in  the  retirement — I  mean, 


120  HUMOROUS    HITS 

the — the  proceedings  connected  with  the  retirement — of  my 
friend,  Lord  Liverwing.  We  are  all  here — I  say,  we  are  all  here — 
to  express  our  heartfelt  thanks  to  his  lordship  for  his  retiring, 
I — I — I  should  say,  for  his  untirmg  efforts  on  our  behalf  and  on 
behalf  of  humanity  and  on  behalf  of  civilization  and  on  behalf — 
of  the  whole  world  in  general !  As  instances  of  the  good  work 
accomplished  by  his  lordship  I  may  mention  such  praiseworthy 
acts  as — as — such  praiseworthy  acts  as — well,  as  he  has  done. 
The  whole  of  the  civilized  world,  including  Goosefield,  knows 
of  Lord  Liverwing's  noble  and  unshellfish — I  should  say  unselfish, 
and  successful  efforts  on  behalf  of  the  common  crab  of  commerce. 
More  especially  should  we  be  grateful  to  his  lordship  for  his 
masterly  handling  of  the  clause  of  crabs — I  mean  the  crab- 
claws,  which  he  has  inserted,  or  claused — er,  caused — to  be 
inserted  in  the  statues  of  the  realm.  It  is,  at  all  times, 
a  most  delicate  matter  to  take  up  the  clause  of  the  cause 
— er — the  cause  of  the  claws — er — to  take  up  the  cause  of 
crabs — er — the  clause  of  crabs — the — er — clause  in  the  laws  of 
the  crab-clause — er,  laws — and  to  insert  those  claws — er,  laws, 
■ — into  the  clause — er — the  laws — rather,  I  should  say,  of  the  crab 
claws  laws.    I  have  great  pleasure  in  makuig  this  presentation." 

Then  Lord  Liverwing,  who  was  received  with  rapturous 
applause,    arose  and  spoke  as  follows: 

"I  am  completely,  and  I  might  say,  quite  overwhelmed  by  the — 
er — overwhelming  and  the  highly  complimentai-y — compliments — 
I  mean  remarks — which  have  just  fallen  from  the  lips  of  my 
learned  friend  and  to  which  I  have  listened  with  a  decided  feelmg 
of — of — gratification  and  of — er — gratified — er — gratitude — er — 
of  the  present  day.  The — er — elegant  and  pleasing  teeze-clwaster 
■ — I  mean  to  say  ioes-cheester,  will  always  dwell  in  my — I  mean  to 
say,  will  be  perpetually  associated  with  my  mind — er — in  my  mind. 
I  accept  it  as  a  very  handsome  and  appropi'iate  /oasiimonial — er 
— /esiimonial  of  your  good  wishes.  I  beg  also  to  thank  you — er 
— most  thankfully — I  mean  cordially — er — for  the  accompanying 
tooth-poster — or  rather,  pooth-chick,  which  I  shall  never  use!  I 
mean,  never  use,  without — er — without  being  reminded  of  this 
eventful — er  event — and  er — occasion.  Whether  I  look  at  the 
chose-teester  or  at  the  pease-chick,  I  shall  always  say  to  myself 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  121 

that  the  proudest  day  of  my  life — er  proudest  existence  of  my 
life — er — uo,  day  of  my  life — I  meau  existence — er — ^was  the  day 
on  which  this  pose-ticker  and  this  chooth-toast  were  presented  to 
me,  on  this  day — er — in  this  room — er — in  this  place — er — m  this 
way!  The  peeth-toaster  and  the  tick-cheese  will  be  handed  down 
to  my  grandparents — I  mean  my  grandchildren — and  er — to  their 
grandparents  from  time  immemorial.  They  will  be  taught  to  con- 
template with  reverential  reverence — er — this  very  elegant  choose- 
picker  and  this  beautiful  and  veiy  handsome  teeth-poose!" 


UPS  AND  DOWNS  OF  MARRIED  LIFE 

ANONYMOUS 

A  well-drest  woman  walked  into  a  promment  New  York  office 
building  the  other  day  and  took  one  of  the  elevators.  Her  hus- 
band saw  her  from  across  the  street,  and  hurrying  over  took  the 
next  elevator.  He  went  to  the  office  where  he  knew  she  had 
business,  and  found  she  had  stept  in  only  for  a  moment  and  had 
gone  down  again. 

The  elevator  despatcher  said  to  her:  "Your  husband  just  went 
up,  and  I  think  he's  looking  for  you." 

She  took  the  next  elevator  up.  Just  then  her  husband  came 
down.     He  looked  all  around  and  then  inquired: 

"Have  you  seen  my  wife  here?" 

"Yes,  she  went  up  this  minute." 

He  took  the  next  elevator  and  was  just  out  of  sight  when  she 
came  down. 

"Your  husband  has  just  gone  up." 

"Then  I'll  go  right  up,  as  he'll  wait  for  me  this  time." 

Down  came  her  husband  a  second  afterward. 

"Did  my  wife  come  down  again?" 

"Yes,  and  just  went  up.     She  thought  you'd  wait  for  her." 

After  waiting  a  few  moments  he  became  impatient  and  went 
up  again.     She  had  been  waiting  for  him,  and  came  down. 

"Husband  just  gone  up." 

"Then  I'll  wait  here,  as  he  will  surely  come  down." 


122  HUMOROUS    HITS 

She  waited  a  few  moments  and  then  hurried  up  again  just  as 
he  came  down. 

"Wife  here?" 

"Just  gone  up !" 

"Well  I'm  going  home  and  you  tell  her "  He  paused,  turned 

around  and  went  up  again.     Down  she  came. 

"Did  he  come  down?" 

"Yes,  and  he's  gone  up  again  as  mad  as  a  hornet." 

"Then  I  had  better  go  right  up." 

Up  she  went  and  down  he  came. 

"Just  gone  up." 

"Well,  I'll  be  hanged  if  I'm  going  up  again.  No,  sir!  I've 
seen  many  ups  and  downs  in  my  time,  but  this  is  the  limit.  I'm 
going  to  sit  right  here  and  wait  if  she  never  comes  down !" 

When  they  closed  the  building  for  the  night,  he  was  still  sitting 
down-stairs,  and  she,  equally  determined,  was  waiting  up-stairs, 
while  the  elevator  man  remarked : 

"Well,  I  hope  dey'll  meet  in  heav'n !" 


THE  CROOKED  MOUTH  FAMILY 

ANONYMOUS 

In  a  locality  not  far  removed  from  the  city's  busy  hum,  there 
lived  a  family  noted  for  certain  remarkable  peculiarities  of  facial 
distortion.  In  the  father  the  lower  jaw  protruded;  in  the  mother 
it  receded  so  that  the  upper  jaw  overhung  it  like  a  canopy;  the 
daughter  had  her  face  drawn  to  the  left  side,  while  the  son  had 
his  drawn  to  the  right,  and  m  addition  to  this  deformity  stam- 
mered most  dreadfully.  AVhile  he  attempted  to  talk  his  face 
assumed  an  expression  equally  grotesque  as  the  caricatures  in  a 
yellow  journal. 

The  father  kept  a  store  and  one  day  a  man  entered  whose  face, 
strangely  enough,  was  drawn  strongly  to  the  riglit  side.  Address- 
ing the  daughter,  who  was  standing  back  of  the  counter,  he  said, 


HUMOROUS    HITS  123 

"I  want  a  pound  of  tea,"  his  words  coming  from  the  comer  of 
his  mouth. 

"What  are  you  making  fun  of  me  for?"  replied  the  girl,  her 
face  drawn  in  the  opposite  direction. 

"I  ain't  making  fun  of  you.  Can't  help  it.  I  was  born  this 
way." 

The  young  lady,  however,  was  not  satisfied  that  the  stranger 
was  telling  the  truth,  so,  stepping  to  the  door  she  called  to  her 
father,  "Pa,  there's  a  man  down  here  making  fun  of  me." 

The  father  put  in  an  appearance  and  demanded  of  the  customer 
why  he  had  made  fun  of  his  daughter. 

"I  didn't  make  fun  of  her." 

"Yes  you  did,"  said  the  girl. 

"I  s-s-saw  y-y-you,"  stammered  the  brother,  from  out  the  corner 
of  his  twisted  face. 

"I  tell  you  I  didn't.    I  was  born  this  way.  Can't  talk  any  other." 

"Well,"  said  the  old  man,  "you  would  make  a  good  match  and 
you  ought  to  marry  each  other." 

This  proposition  meeting  with  a  favorable  consideration,  the 
two  were  made  one. 

The  entii-e  family  went  on  the  wedding  tour,  and  one  night 
they  spent  at  a  country  inn  where  candles  Avere  used  for  purposes 
of  illumination.  Picking  up  a  candle  the  groom  attempted  to 
blow  it  out,  but  he  nearly  exhausted  himself  in  the  effort  v/ithout 
accomplishing  his  purpose.  The  bride  came  to  his  rescue  and 
blew,  and  blew,  and  blew,  but  with  no  better  result.  Papa 
appearing  upon  the  scene,  said,  "Let  me  have  it.  I'll  show  you 
how  to  do  it,"  and  he  went  to  work  with  a  noise  that  sounded  like 
the  exhaust  of  a  high-pressure  engine,  but  the  candle  stubbornly 
refused  to  go  out.  The  mother,  hearing  the  racket,  then  came 
upon  the  scene,  and  learning  of  their  quandary,  put  the  candle 
on  her  head  and  blew  upward  but  the  flame  merely  flickered  as 
tho  fanned  by  a  gentle  zephyr.  Just  then  they  saw  the  watch- 
man passing  by,  so,  in  their  extremity,  they  called  him  to  their 
aid  and  he  promptly  blew  out  the  candle  because  he  had  a  straight 
mouth. 


124  HUMOROUS    HITS 

"IMPH-M" 

AKONYMOUS 

When  I  was  a  laddie  lang  syne  at  the  schule, 
The  maister  aye  ca'd  me  a  dunce  an'  a  fule; 
For  somehoo  his  words  I  could  ne'er  un'erstan', 
Unless  when  he  bawled,  "Jamie,  hand  oot  ycr  han' !" 

Then  I  gloom'd,  and  said,  "Imph-m," 

I  glunch'd,  and  said,  "Imph-m" — 
I  wasna  owre  proud,  but  OAvrc  dour  to  say — a-y-e! 

Ae  day  a  queer  word,  as  lang-nebbits'  himsel'. 
He  vow'd  he  would  thrash  me  if  I  wadna  spell, 
Quo  I,  "Maister  Quill,"  wi'  a  kin'  o'  a  swither, 
"I'll  spell  ye  the  word  if  ye'll  spell  me  anither: 

Let's  hear  ye  spell  'Imph-m,' 

That  common  word  'Impli-m,' 
That  auld  Scotch  word  *Imph-m,'  ye  ken  it  means  a-y-e !" 

Had  ye  seen  hoo  he  glour'd,  hoo  he  scratched  his  big  pate, 
An'  shouted,  "Ye  villain,  get  oot  o'  my  gate ! 
Get  aft'  to  your  seat !  yer  the  plague  o'  the  schule ! 
The  de'il,  o'  me  kens  if  yer  maist  rogue  or  fule !" 

But  I  only  said,  "Imph-m," 

That  pawkie  word  "Imph-m," 
He  couldna  spell  "Tmph-m,"  that  stands  for  an  a-y-e! 

An'  when  a  brisk  wooer,  I  courted  my  Jean — 
0'  Avon's  braw  lasses  the  pride  an'  the  queen — 
AVhen  'neath  my  gray  pladie,  wi'  heart  beatin'  fain, 
I  speired  in  a  whisper  if  she'd  be  my  ain. 

She  blushed,  an'  said,  "Imph-m," 

That  channing  word  "Imph-m," 
A  thousan'  times  better  an'  sweeter  than  a-y-e ! 


HUMOROUS    HITS  125 

Just  ae  thing  I  wanted  my  bliss  to  complete — 

Ae  kiss  frae  her  rosy  mou',  couthie  an'  sweet — 

But  a  shake  o'  her  head  was  her  only  reply — 

Of  course,  that  said  no,  but  I  kent  she  meant  a-y-e, 

For  her  twa  een  said  "Imph-m," 

Her  red  lips  said,  "Imph-m," 
Her  hale  face  said  "Imph-m,"  au'  "Imph-m"  means  a-y-e ! 


THE  USUAL  WAY 

ANONYMOUS 

There  was  once  a  little  man,  and  his  rod  and  line  he  took. 
For  he  said,  "I'll  go  a-fishing  in  the  neighboring  brook." 
And  it  chanced  a  little  maiden  was  walking  out  that  day, 
And  they  met — in  the  usual  way. 

Then  he  sat  down  beside  her,  and  an  hour  or  two  went  by, 
But  still  upon  the  grassy  brink  his  rod  and  luie  did  lie ; 
''I  thought,"  she  shyly  whispered,  "you'd  be  fishing  all  the  day." 
And  he  was — in  the  usual  way. 

So  he  gravely  took  his  rod  in  hand  and  threw  the  line  about. 
But  the  fish  perceived  distinctly,  he  was  not  looking  out; 
And  he  said,  "Sweetheart,  I  love  you,"  but  she  said  she  could  not 
stay, 

But  she  did — in  the  usual  way. 

Then  the  stars  came  out  above  them,  and  she  gave  a  little  sigh. 
As  they  watched  the  silver  ripples,  like  the  moments,  running  by ; 
"We  must  say  good-by,"  she  whispered,  by  the  alders  old  and  gray, 
And  they  did — in  the  usual  way. 

And  day  by  day  beside  the  stream,  they  wandered  to  and  fro, 
And  day  by  day  the  fishes  swam  securely  down  below. 
Till  this  little  story  ended,  as  such  little  stories  may 
Very  much — in  the  usual  way. 


126  HUMOROUS    HITS 

And  now  that  they  are  married,  do  they  alv/ays  bill  and  coo? 
Do  they  never  fret  or  quarrel,  like  other  couples  do? 
Does  he  cherish  her  and  love  her?    Does  she  honor  and  obey? 
Well,  they  do — in  the  usual  way. 

NOTHING  SUITED  HIM 

ANONYMOUS 

He  sat  at  the  dinner-table  there, 

With  discontented  frown. 
The  potatoes  and  steak  were  underdone 

And  the  bread  was  baked  too  brown. 
The  pie  too  sour,  the  pudding  too  sweet, 

And  the  mince-meat  much  too  fat, 
The  soup  was  g-reasy,  too,  and  salt — 

'Twas  hardly  fit  for  a  cat. 

"I  wish  you  could  taste  the  bread  and  pies 

I  have  seen  my  mother  make; 
They  were  something  like,  «nd  'twould  do  you  good 

Just  to  look  at  a  slice  of  her  cake." 
Said  the  smiling  wife :  "I'll  improve  with  age. 

Just  now,  I'm  a  beginner. 
But  your  mother  called  to  see  me  to-day 
And  I  got  her  to  cook  the  dinner." 

A  LITTLE  FELLER 

ANONYMOUS 

Say,  Sunday's  lonesome  fur  a  little  feller. 

With  pop  and  mom  a-readin'  all  the  while, 
An'  never  sayin'  anything  to  cheer  ye. 

An'  lookin'  's  if  they  didn't  know  how  to  smile ; 
With  hook  an'  line  a-hangin'  ui  the  wood-shed. 

An'  lots  o'  'orms  down  by  the  outside  cellar. 
An'  Brown's  creek  just  over  by  the  mill-dam — 

Say,  Sunday's  lonesome  fur  a  little  feller. 


HUMOROUS    HITS  127 

Why,  Sunday's  lonesome  fui'  a  little  feller 

Right  on  from  sun-up  when  the  day  commences 
Fur  little  fellers  don't  have  much  to  think  of, 

'Copt  chasin'  gophers  'long  the  corn-field  fences, 
Or  diggin'  after  moles  down  in  the  wood-lot, 

Or  climbin'  after  apples  what's  got  meller, 
Or  lishin'  down  in  Brown's  creek  an'  mill-pond — 

Say,  Sunday's  lonesome  fur  a  little  feller. 

But  Sunday's  never  lonesome  fur  a  little  feller 

When  he's  a-stayin  down  to  Uncle  Ora's; 
He  took  his  book  onct  right  out  in  the  orchard, 

An'  told  us  little  chaps  just  lots  of  stories, 
All  truly  true,  that  happened  onct  fur  honest. 

An'  one  'bout  lions  in  a  sort  o'  cellar. 
An'  how  some  angels  came  an'  shut  their  mouths  up, 

An'  how  they  never  teched  that  Dan'l  feller. 

An'  Sunday's  pleasant  down  to  Aunt  Marilda's ; 

She  lets  us  take  some  books  that  some  one  gin  her, 
An'  takes  us  down  to  Sunday-school  't  the  schoolhouse ; 

An'  sometimes  she  has  a  nice  shortcake  fur  dmner. 
An'  onct  she  had  a  puddin'  full  o'  raisins, 

Au'  onct  a  frosted  cake  all  white  an'  yeller. 
I  think,  when  I  stay  down  to  Aunt  Marilda's, 

That  Sunday's  pleasant  fur  a  little  feller. 

ROBIN  TAMSON'S  SMIDDY 

BY  ALEXANDER  RODGER 

My  mither  men't  my  auld  breeks, 

An'  wow  !  but  they  were  duddy, 
And  sent  me  to  get  Mally  shod 

At  Robin  Tamson's  smiddy. 
The  smiddy  stands  beside  the  burn 

That  wimples  through  the  clachan, 
I  never  yet  gae  by  the  door. 

But  aye  I  fa'  a-laughui'. 


128  HUMOEOUS    HITS 

For  Robin  was  a  waltby  carle, 

An'  had  ae  bonnie  doebter, 
Yet  ne'er  wad  let  ber  tak'  a  man, 

Tbo  mony  lads  bad   sougbt  ber. 
And  wbat  tbink  ye  o'  my  exploit? — 

Tbe  time  our  mare  was  sboeing, 
I  slippit  up  beside  tbe  lass, 

An'  briskly  fell  a-wooing. 

An'  aye  sbe  e'ed  my  auld  breeks, 

Tbe  time  tbat  we  sat  erackin', 
Quo'  I,  "My  lass,  ne'er  mmd  tbe  clouts, 

I've  new  anes  for  tbe  makin'; 
But  gin  ye'll  just  come  bame  wi'  me. 

An'  lea'  tbe  carle,  your  fatber, 
Ye'se  get  my  breeks  to  keep  in  trim, 

Mysel',  an'  a'  tbegitber." 

"  'Deed,  lad,"  quo'  sbe,  "your  offer's  fair, 

I  really  tbhik  I'll  tak'  it, 
Sae,  gang  awa',  get  out  tbe  mare. 

We'll  baitb  slip  on  the  back  o't; 
For  gin  I  wait  my  father's  time, 

I'll  wait  till  I  be  fifty; 
But  na; — I'll  marry  in  my  prime. 

An'  mak'  a  wife  most  thrifty." 

Wow!  Robin  was  an  angry  man, 

At  tyning  o'  his  doebter; 
Through  a'  tbe  kintra-side  be  ran, 

An'  far  an'  near  be  sought  her; 
But  when  he  cam'  to  our  fire-end. 

An'  fand  us  baitb  tbegitber, 
Quo'  I,  "Gudeman,  I've  ta'en  j-our  bairn. 

An'  ye  may  tak'  my  mither." 


HUMOKOUS    HITS  129 

Auld  Robin  girn'd  an'  sheuk  his  pow, 

"Guid  sooth !"  quo'  he,  "you're  merry, 
But  I'll  just  tak'  ye  at  your  word, 

An'  end  this  hurry-burry." 
So  Robin  an'  our  auld  wife 

Agreed  to  creep  thegither; 
Now,  I  ha'e  Robin  Tamson's  pet, 

An'  Robin  has  my  mither. 


A  BIG  MISTAKE 

ANONYMOUS 

Recently  our  church  has  had  a  new  minister.  He  is  a  nice,  good, 
sociable  man;  but  having  come  from  a  distant  State,  of  course 
he  was  totally  unacquainted  with  our  people. 

Therefore,  it  hajDpened  that  during  his  pastoral  calls  he  made 
several  ludicrous  blunders. 

The  other  evening  he  called  upon  Mrs.  Hadden.  She  had  just 
lost  her  husband,  and  naturally  supposed  that  his  visit  was  rel- 
ative to  the  sad  occurrence.  So,  after  a  few  commonplaces  had 
been  exchanged,  she  was  not  at  all  surprized  to  hear  him  remark : 

"It  \vas  a  sad  bereavement,  was  it  not?" 

"Yes,"  faltered  the  widow. 

"Totally  unexpected f 

"Oh,  yes;  I  never  dreamed  of  it." 

"He  died  in  the  barn,  I  suppose?" 

"Oh,  no;  in  the  house." 

"Ah — well,  I  suppose  you  must  have  thought  a  great  deal  of 
him." 

"Of  course,  sir," — this  with  a  vim. 

The  minister  looked  rather  surprized,  but  continued : 

"Blind  staggers  was  the  disease,  I  believe  ?" 

"No,  sir,"  snapped  the  widow,  "apoplexy." 

"Indeed;  you  must  have  fed  him  too  much." 

"He  was  always  capable  of  feeding  himself,  sir." 

"Very  intelligent  he  must  have  been.     Died  hard,  didn't  he?" 

"He  did." 


-|:^0  HUMOROUS    HITS 

"You  had  to  hit  him  on  the  head  with  an  ax  to  put  him  out  of 
misery,  I  was  told." 

"Whoever  told  you  so  did  not  speak  the  truth.  James  died 
naturally." 

"Yes,"  repeated  the  minister,  in  a  slightly  perplexed  tone,  "he 
kicked  the  side  of  the  barn  down  in  his  last  agonies,  did  he  not?" 

"No,  sir,  he  didn't." 

"Well,  I  have  been  misinformed,  I  suppose.    How  old  was  he?" 

"Thirty-tive." 

"Then  he  did  not  do  much  active  Avork.  Perhaps  you  are  better 
without  him,  for  you  can  easily  supply  his  place  with  another." 

"Never,  sir — never  will  I  see  one  as  good  as  he." 

"Oh,  yes,  you  will.     He  had  the  heaves  bad,  you  kiiow." 

"Nothing  of  the  kind !" 

"Why,  I  recollect  I  saw  him,  one  day,  passing  along  the  road, 
and  I  distinctly  recollect  that  he  had  the  heaves,  and  walked  as 
if  he  had  the  string-halt." 

"He  could  never  have  had  the  string-halt,  for  he  had  a  cork 
leg!" 

"A  cork  leg ! — remarkable.  But  really,  now,  didn't  he  have  a 
dangerous  trick  of  suddenly  stopping  and  kicking  a  wagon  all 
to  pieces?" 

"Never;  he  was  not  a  madman,  sir!" 

"Probably  not.     P)ut  there  were  some  good  points  about  him." 

"I  should  think  so !" 

"The  Avay  in  which  he  carried  his  ears,  for  example." 

"Nobody  else  ever  noticed  that  particular  merit;  he  was  warm- 
hearted, generous  and  frank !" 

"Good  qualities.    How  long  did  it  take  him  to  go  a  mile '/" 

"About  fifteen  minutes." 

"Not  much  of  a  goer.    Wasn't  his  hair  apt  to  fly?" 

"He  didn't  have  any  hair.    He  was  bald-headed." 

"Quite  a  curiosity?" 

"No,  sir;  no  more  of  a  curiosity  than  you  are." 

"Did  you  use  the  whip  much  on  him?" 

"Never,  sir." 

"Went  right  along  without  it,  eh?" 

"Yes!" 


HUMOROUS    HITS  131 

"He  must  have  been  a  very  good  sort  of  a  brute !" 

"The  idea  of  j'ou  commg  here  and  insulting  me !"  she  sobbed. 
"If  my  husband  had  lived  you  wouldn't  have  done  it.  Your  re- 
marks in  reference  to  that  poor,  dead  man  have  been  a  series  of 
insults.     I  won't  stand  it." 

He  colored  and  looked  dumbfounded. 

"Are  3'ou  not  Mrs.  Blinkers,  and  has  not  your  old  gray  horse 
died?" 

"I  never  owned  a  h-hoi'se,  but  my  husband  died  a  week  ago !" 

Ten  minutes  later  the  minister  came  out  of  that  house  with  the 
reddest  face  ever  seen  on  mortal  man. 

"And  to  think,"  he  groaned,  as  he  strode  home,  "that  I  was 
talking  horse  to  that  woman  all  the  time,  and  she  was  talking 
husband." 

LORD  DUNDREARY'S  LETTER 

ANONYMOUS 

(He  enters  holding  a  letter  in  his  hand  and  a  monocle  in  his 
eye.)  I  wonder  who  w-w-wote  me  this  letter?  I  thuppose  the 
b-b-best  way  to  f-f-find  out  ith  to  open  it  and  thee.  {Opens 
letter.)  Thome  lun -lunatic  hath  w-w-witten  me  this  letter.  He 
hath  w-w-witten  it  upthide  down.  I  w-w-wonder  if  he  th-thought 
I  wath  going  to  w-w-wead  it  thanding  on  my  head.  Oh,  yeth,  I 
thee;  I  had  it  t-t-turned  upthide  down. 

"Amewica."  Who  do  I  know  in  Amewica?  I  am  glad  he  hath 
g-g-given  me  hitli  addwess  anyhow.  Oh,  yeth,  I  thee,  it  ith  from 
Tham.  I  alwaths  know  Tham's  handwiting  when  I  thee  hith  name 
at  the  b-b-bottom  of  it. 

"My  dear  bwother."  Tham  alwaths  called  me  bwother,  be- 
cauthe  we  never  had  any  thisters.  When  we  were  boyths,  we  were 
ladths  together — both  of  us.  They  used  to  g-g-get  off  a  pwoverb 
when  they  thaw  uth  com-com-coming  dovm  the  stweet.  It  iths 
awfully  good,  if  I  could  only  think  of  it.  Iths — it  iths  the  early 
bir-bir-bird — iths  the  early  bir-bir-bird  that  knowths  iths  own 
f-f-f ather.  What  nonthense  that  iths !  How  co-co-eould  a  b-b- 
bird  know  iths  own  father?  Iths  a  withe  child — iths  a  withe 
child — iths  a  wise  child  that  geths  the  worm.     T-t-that's  not  wite. 


132  HUMOROUS    HITS 

Wat  nonthense  that  iths!  No  pa-pa-pawent  would  allow  hiths 
child  to  ga-ga-gather  worms.  Iths  a  wyme.  Fish  of-of-of  a 
feathei*, — fish  of  a  f-f-feather, — now  what  nonthense  that  iths! 
Fish  don't  have  feathers.  Iths  a  b-b-bird — iths  b-b-bii'ds  of  a 
feather, — b-b-birds  of  a  feather — flock  together.  B-b-birds  of  a 
f-f-feather!  Just  as  if  a  who-who-whole  flock  of  b-b-birds  had 
only  one  f-f-feather.  They'd  all  catch  cold.  Only  one  b-b-bird 
could  have  that  f-f-feather,  and  he'd  fly  sidewithse.  What  con- 
confounded  nonthense  that  iths!  Flock  to-to-together!  Of 
courthse  th-th-they'd  flock  together.  Who  ever  heard  of  a  b-b-bird 
being  such  a  f-f-fool  as  to  g-g-go  into  a  corner  and  flock  by  him- 
self?   That's  one  of  those  things  no  fellow  can  find  out. 

''I  wote  you  a  letter  thome  time  ago "  Thath's  a  lie;  he 

d-d-didn't  w-w-wite  me  a  letter.  If  he  had  witten  me  a  letter  he 
would  have  posted  it,  and  I  would  have  g-g-got  it ;  so,  of  courthse, 
he  didn't  post  it,  and  then  he  didn't  wite  it.  Thath's  easy.  Oh, 
yeths,  I  thee :  "but  I  dwopped  it  into  the  poth-potht-office  without 
putting  any  name  on  it."  I  wonder  who  the  d-d-dickens  got  that 
letter.  I  w-w-wonder  if  the  poth-pothman  iths  gwoin'  awound 
asking  for  a  fellow  without  any  name.  I  wonder  if  there  iths 
such  a  fellow,  a  fellow  without  any  name?  If  there  iths  any 
fellow  Avithout  any  name,  how  doeths  he  know  who  he  iths  himself  ? 
I-I-I  wonder  if  thuch  a  fellow  could  get  mawaid.  How  could  he 
ask  a  girl  to  take  hiths  name  if  he  h-h-had  no  name?  That's  one 
of  those  things  no  fellow  can  find  out. 

"I  have  just  made  a  startling  dithcovery."  Tham's  alwaths 
d-d-doing  thomthing.  "I  have  dithcovered  that  my  mother  iths 
— that  m-m-my  mother  iths  not  my  m-m-mother;  that  a — the  old 
nurthe  iths  my  m-m-mother,  and  that  you  are  not  my  b-b-bwother, 
and  a — that-that-that  I  was  changthed  at  my  birth."  How  ca-ca- 
can  a  fellow  be  changthed  at  hith  b-b-birth  ?  If  he  hiths  not  him- 
thelf,  who  iths  he?  If  Tham's  m-m-mother  iths  not  hiths  m-m- 
mother,  and  the  old  nurthe  iths  hith  m-m-mother,  and  Tham  iths 
not  my  b-b-bwother,  then  who  the  dickens  am  I  ?  Stope  a  minute. 
{Points  to  forefinger  of  left  hand.)  That's  Tham's  m-m-mother, 
and  that's  Tham's  nurthe  {pointing  to  thumb  of  left  hand). 
Tham's  nurthe  ith  only  half  the  size  of  hith  m-m-mother.  Well, 
that's  my  m-m-mother  {pointing  to  second  finger  of  left  hand). 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  133 

I  can't  get  my  m-m-mother  to  stand  up!  {All  the  fingers  spring 
up.)  Hello,  there's  a  lot  of  other  fellows'  m-m-mothers.  Well, 
as  far  as  I  can  make  out,  Tham  hath  left  me  no  m-m-mother  at  all ! 
That's  one  of  those  thmgs  no  fellow  can  find  out. 

"I  have  just  purchathed  an  ethstate  som-som-somewhere " 

Dothn't  the  idiot  know  wh-wh-where  he  hath  bought  it?  Oh, 
yeth :  "on  the  banks  of  the  M-M-M-Mith-ith-ippi."  Who  iths  Mit- 
tliis  Thippi?  I  g'-g--g'ueth  iths  Tham's  m-m-mother-in-law.  Tham's 
got  mawaid.  He  thayths  he  felt  awfully  ner-ner-nervouths.  S-s- 
speaking  of  m-m-mother-in-lawths,  I  had  a  fwiend  who  had  a 
m-m-mother-in-law,  and  he  didn't  like  her  very  well;  and  she  felt 
the  thame  way  toward  him;  and  they  went  away  on  a  steamer 
acwoths  the  ocean,  and  they  got  shipwecked,  catht  away  on  a  waft, 
and  they  floated  awound  in  the  water,  living  on  thuch  things  ath 
they  could  pick  up — such  ath  thardines,  iee-cweam,  owanges,  and 
other  canned  goods  that  were  floating  awound.  When  that  was 
all  gone,  everybody  ate  everybody  else.  F-f -finally  only  himthelf 
and  hiths  m-m-mother-in-law  waths  left,  and  they  played  a  game 
of  e-c-checkers  to  thee  who  thould  be  eaten  up — himthelf  or  hith 
m-m-mother-in-law.  He  w-w^-won !  He  thays  that  wath  the  only 
time  that  he  weally  cared  for  his  mother-in-law! 

Oh,  herthe  a  pothscript.  "By  the  way,  what  do  you  think  of 
the  f-f-following  widdle?"  One  of  Tham's  widdles.  "If  four- 
teen dogs  with  three  legs  each  catch  forty-eight  rabbits  with 
seventy-six  legs  in  twenty-five  minutes,  how  many  legs  must 
twenty-four  rabbits  have  to  get  away  from  ninety-three  dogs  with 
two  legs  each  in  half  an  hour?"  That's  one  of  those  things  no 
fellow  can  find  out. 

V    SLANG  PHRASES 

ANONYMOUS 

It  is  not  strange  that  children  misunderstand  our  slang  phrases. 
Not  long  ago  a  gentleman  about  to  go  abroad,  made  the  round 
of  the  steamship.  When  he  came  back  he  walked  up  to  the  captain 
and  said:  "Captain,  what  has  become  of  the  old  steward?  I  do 
not  see  anything  of  him  this  trip." 


13-i  HUMOROUS    HITS 

''The  old  steward, — hm, — the  old  steward,  well,  he  got  too  big 
for  his  breeches,  and  we  fired  him." 

Now  it  haj^pened  that  a  little  girl  stood  by  and  overheard  the 
conversation,  and  not  long  after  a  second  gentleman  made  the 
round  of  the  ship,  and  coming  up  to  a  fellow  traveler  said  : 

"John,  we  do  not  see  anything  of  the  old  steward  this  trip; 
what  do  you  suppose  has  become  of  him  ?" 

"I  do  not  know,  I  am  sure." 

"I  do,"  said  a  small  voice. 

They  looked  around  and  saw  a  little  girl  peeping  out  from  a 
cabin  door. 

"Well,  well,  my  little  friend,  could  you  tell  us  what  has  become 
of  the  old  steward?" 

"I  don't  like  to  say." 

"Oh,  that's  a  nice  little  girl,  I  am  sure;  was  he  discharged?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"What  was  the  matter?    What  was  the  matter?" 

"His  pants  were  too  short." 


THE  MERCHANT  AND  THE  BOOK  AGENT 

ANONYMOUS 

A  book  agent  importuned  James  Watson,  a  rich  merchant, 
living  a  few  miles  out  of  the  city,  until  he  bought  a  book  entitled 
"The  Early  Cliristian  Martyrs."  Mr.  Watson  didn't  want  the 
book,  but  he  bought  it  to  get  rid  of  the  agent;  then  taking  it 
under  his  arm  he  started  for  the  train  which  takes  him  to  his 
office  in  the  city. 

Mr.  Watson  had  not  been  gone  long  before  Mi's.  Watson  came 
home  from  a  neighbor's.  The  book  agent  saw  hei',  and  went  in 
and  persuaded  the  wife  to  buy  a  copy  of  the  book.  She  was 
ignorant  of  the  fact  that  her  husband  had  bought  the  same  book 
in  the  morning. 

When  Mr.  Watson  came  back  in  the  evening,  he  met  his  wife 
with  a  cheerj'  smile  as  he  said :  "Well,  my  dear,  how  have  you 
enjoyed  yourself  to-day?    Well,  I  hope." 

"Ob;  yes !  had  an  early  caller  this  morning," 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  135 

"Ah,  and  who  was  she?" 

"It  wasn't  a  'she'  at  all;  it  was  a  gentleman — a  book  agent." 

"A  what?" 

"A  book  agent,  and,  to  get  rid  of  his  imi^ortuning,  I  bought  his 
book,  the  'Eaiij-  Christian  Martyrs.'     See,  here  it  is." 

"I  don't  want  to  see  it." 

"Why,  husband?" 

"Because  that  rascally  book  agent  sold  me  the  same  book  this 
morning.  Now  we've  got  two  copies  of  the  same  book — two 
copies  of  the  'Early  Christian  Martyrs,'  and " 

"But,  husband,  we  can " 

"No,  we  can't,  either !  The  man  is  off  on  the  train  before  this. 
Confound  it !     I  could  kill  the  fellow " 

"Why,  there  he  goes  to  the  depot  now!"  said  Mrs.  Watson, 
pointing  out  of  the  window  at  the  retreating  form  of  the  book 
agent  making  for  the  train. 

"But  it's  too  late  to  catch  him,  and  I'm  not  drest.  I've  taken 
off  my  boots,  and " 

Just  then  Mr.  Stevens,  a  neighbor  of  Mr.  Watson,  drove  by, 
when  Mr.  Watson  pounded  on  the  window-pane  in  a  frantic 
manner,  almost  frightenmg  the  horse. 

"Here,  Stevens !  You're  hitched  up  !  Won't  you  run  your  horse 
down  to  the  train  and  hold  that  book  agent  till  I  come  ?  Run ! 
Catch  'im  now !" 

"All  right,"  said  Mr.  Stevens,  whipping  up  his  horse  and  tear- 
ing down  the  road. 

Mr.  Stevens  reached  the  train  as  the  conductor  shouted  "All 
aboard !" 

"Book  agent !"  he  yelled,  as  the  book  agent  slept  on  the  train. 
"Book  agent !  hold  on !  Mr.  Watson  wants  to  see  you." 

"Watson  ?  Watson  wants  to  see  me  ?"  repeated  the  seemingly 
puzzled  book  agent.  "Oh,  I  know  what  he  wants;  he  wants  to  buy 
one  of  my  books;  but  I  can't  miss  the  train  to  sell  it  to  him." 

"If  that  is  all  he  wants,  I  can  pay  for  it  and  take  it  to  him. 
How  much  is  it?" 

"Two  dollars  for  the  'Early  Christian  Martyrs,' "  said  the  book 
agent  as  he  reached  for  the  money  and  passed  the  book  out  the 
car-window. 


136  HUMOROUS    HITS 

Just  then  Mr.  Watson  arrived,  pulling  and  blowing,  in  his  shirt 
sleeves.  As  he  saw  the  train  pull  out  he  was  too  full  for  utter- 
ance. 

"Well,  I  got  it  for  you,"  said  Stevens;  "just  got  it  and  that's 
all." 

"Got  what  r 

"Got  the  book — 'Early  Christian  Martyrs,'  and  paid " 

"By — the — great — guns !"  moaned  Watson,  as  he  placed  his 
hand  to  his  brow  and  swooned  right  in  the  middle  of  the  street. 


;\  THE  COON'S  LULLABY 

ANONYMOUS 

'Heah,  yo'  Rastus,  shet  yo'  sleepy  head, 

Mammy's  gwine  tub  rock  huh  lamb  tub  res' — 
Ebry  little  possom  coon  am  sleepin'  in  its  bed, 

Yo's  my  precious  honey — yes  yo'  am. 
Swing  oh;  swing  oh; — Lucy  whar  yo'  bin  so  late? 

Lemme  catch  a  niggah  courtin'  you,  yes  you ! 
Huri-y  up  yo'  rascals  fo'  dab's  corn  bread  on  de  plate, 

Fo'  mammy  loves  huh  honey,  yes  she  do ! 

(Sings) 

Swing  oh;  swing  oh;  fo'  mammy  loves  huh  honey,  yes  she  do. 

Swing  oh;  swing  oh;  fo'  mammy  loves  huh  honej'-,  yes  she  do. 

Laws  now,  Rastus,  I  done  gwine  to  swat  yo'  one  ha'd, 

Slap  yo'  tub  a  peak  an'  break  it  off — 
Monst'us  drefful  Bogie  man  am  waitin'  in  de  ya'd — 

Mammy's  only  jokin',  yes  she  am. 
Swing  oh ;  swmg  oh ; — Petah,  yes  I  see  yo'  git ! 

Wasbin'ton,  I'll  cu'l  yo'  wool  fo'  you, 
Neber  in  dis  whole,  roun'  wo'ld  I  seen  sieh  cbilluns  yit, 

But  mammy  loves  huh  honey,  yes  she  do ! 


HUMOEOUS    HITS 


137 


(Sings) 

Swing  oli;  swing  oh;  fo'  mammy  loves  huh  honey,  yes  she  do. 

Swing  oh;  swing  oh;  fo'  mammy  loves  huh  honey,  yes  she  do. 


(After  the  last  chorus  the  speaker  should  softly  hum  the  tune 
again,  with  an  occasional  "Sh !"  to  the  audience,  and  with  panto- 
mime of  putting  the  baby  in  the  cradle,  putting  it  to  sleep,  and 
softly  tiptoeing  out.) 

r/      


y — i 


-1^^ 


*^=^ 


Swing 


oh; 


Swing 


oh; 


fo' 


^ -H- 


i 


mam 


kfe=^ 


my 


loves 


huh 


hon 


do. 


Swing 


yes 

—A — 


she 


oh;  Swing       oh;     fo' 


mam 


my     loves      huh     hon    -   ey,       yes 


she 


-iS*— 
do. 


t  PARODY  ON  BARBARA  FRIETCHIE 


ANONYMOUS 


Drougli  der  streeds  of  Friedrichtown, 
Mit  der  red-hot  sun  a-shinin'  down, 
Past  dose  saloons  all  filled  mit  beer, 
Dose  repel  fellers  valked  on  der  ear. 


138  HUMOEOUS    HITS 

All  day  drough  Friedrichtown  so  fasd, 
Hosses  foot  und  sojers  past, 
Und  der  repel  flag  skimmerin'  oud  so  pright, 
You  vould  dink,  py  jiminy,  id  had  a  ridght. 


Off  all  der  flags  dot  flopped  in  der  morning  vind, 

Nary  a  vone  could  enypody  find. 

Ub  shumbed  old  Miss  Frietehie  den, 

Who  vas  pent  down  py  nine  score  years  und  den. 


She  took  der  flag  the  men  hauled  down, 
Und  stuck  it  fasd  on  her  nighd-gown, 
Und  pud  id  in  der  vinder  vere  all  could  see 
Dot  dear  old  flag  so  free. 


Yust  den  ub  came  Stonewall  Jack, 

Ridin'  on  his  bosses'  pack, 

Under  his  prows  he  squinted  his  eyes. 

By  gracious,  dot  old  flag  make  him  much  surprize. 


"Halt !"  Veil,  efery  man  stood  sdill, 
"Fire!"  vas  echoed  from  hill  to  hill; 
Id  broke  der  strings  of  dot  nighd-gown, 
Put  olt  Miss  Frietehie,  she  vas  round. 

She  freezed  on  dot  olt  flag  right  quick, 
Und  oud  of  der  vindow  her  head  did  stick: 
"Scoot,  if  you  must,  dis  olt  cray  head, 
Put  spare  dot  country's  flag !"  she  said. 


A  look  of  shameness  soon  came  o'er 
Der  face  of  Jack,  und  der  tears  did  pour; 
"Who  pulls  oud  a  hair  of  dot  pauld  head 
Dies  like  a  donkey!— skip  along,"  he  said. 


HUMOROUS    HITS  139 

All  dot  day  and  all  dot  night, 
Undil  der  repels  vas  knocked  oud  of  sight, 
Und  vay  pehind  from  Friedrichtown, 
Dot  flag  stuck  fasd  to  dot  olt  nighd-gown. 


Barbara  Frietchie's  vork  vas  done, 
She  don'd  eny  more  kin  liafe  some  fun; 
Fully  for  her !  und  drop  a  tear 
For  dot  olt  gal  midoud  some  fear. 


BEFORE  AND  AFTER 

BY    CHARLES    T.    GRILLEY 

Before 

We  had  been  engaged  for  just  a  week 

And  now  that  we  must  part 
The  thought  of  it  was  maddening. 

And  it  nearly  broke  my  heart. 
As  I  waved  her  adieux  from  the  steamer 

She  answered  back  from  the  pier, 
And  I  murmured  softly  to  myself, 
"My,  but  isn't  she  dear!" 

After 

A  year  has  passed  of  married  life, 

I  received  a  note  to-day 
Written  in  wifey's  well-known  hand: 

"Send  me  fifty  right  away !" 
I  thought  of  all  she  had  cost  me 

During  that  one  brief  year, 
And  then  I  murmured  softly, 
"My,  but  isn't  she  dear!" 


140 


HUMOROUS    HITS 
WHEN   GREEK   MEETS   GREEK 

ANONYMOUS 

'Stranger  here?    Yes,  come  from  Varmount 

Rutland  county.    You've  hern  tell 
Mebbe  of  the  town  of  Granville? 

You  born  there?    No!    sho!    Well,  well! 
You  was  born  at  Granville  was  you? 

Then  you  know  Elisha  Brown, 
Him  as  runs  the  old  meat  market 

At  the  lower  end  of  town! 
Well!  well!  w^ell!    Born  down  in  Granville! 

And  out  here,  so  far  away! 
Stranger,  I'm  homesick  already, 

Tho  it's  but  a  week  to-day 
Since  I  left  my  good  wife  standin' 

Out  there  at  the  kitchen  door, 
Sayin'  she'd  ask  God  to  keep  me; 

And  her  eyes  were  runnin'  o'er! 
You  must  know  ole  Albert  Withers, 

Hem-y  Bell  and  Ambrose  Cole? 
Knoiv  them,  all?     And  born  in  Granville! 
Well!  well!  well!     Why,  bless  my  soul! 
Sho!    You're  not  old  Isaac's  nephew! 

Isaac  Green,  down  on  the  flat ! 
Isaac's  eldest  nephew, — Henry? 

Well,  I'd  never  thought  of  that! 
Have  I  got  a  hundred  dollars 

I  could  loan  you  for  a  minute, 
Till  you  hull  a  Jiorse  at  Blarcy's? 

There's  my  wallet !    Just  that  in  it  I 
Hold  on  tho !    You  have  ten,  mebbe, 

You  could  let  me  keep ;  you  see 
I  might  chance  to  need  a  little 

Betwixt  now  and  half  past  three! 
Ten.     That's  it;  you'll  owe  me  ninety; 

Bring  it  round  to  the  hotel. 
So   you're   old    friend    Isaac's  nephew? 
Born  in   Gi-anville!     Sho!     Well,  well! 


HUMOROUS    HITS  141 


What!  policeman,  did  you  call  me? 

That  a  rascal  going  there? 
Well,  sir,  do  you  know  I  thought  so, 

And  I  plaj'ed  him  pretty  fair; 
Hundred-dollar  bill  I  gave  him — 

Counterfeit — and  got  this  ten! 
Ten  ahead.     No!  you  don't  tell  me! 

This  had,  too?     Sho!     Sold  again! 


MR.  POTTS'  STORY 

BY  MAX  ADELEB 

While  I  was  over  at  Jersey  City,  the  other  day,  I  called  on  the 
Potts.  Mr.  Potts  is  liable  to  indulge  in  extravagance  in  his  con- 
versation, and  as  Mrs.  Potts  is  an  extremely  conscientious  woman 
where  matters  of  fact  are  concerned,  she's  obliged  to  keep  her 
eye  on  him.  Potts  was  telling  me  about  an  incident  that  occurred 
in  the  town  a  few  days  before,  and  this  is  the  way  he  related  it : 

Potts. — "You  see  old  Bradley  over  here  is  perfectly  crazy  on  the 
subject  of  gases,  and  the  atmosphere,  and  such  things — absolutely 
wild;  and  one  day  he  was  disputing  with  Green  about  how  high 
up  in  the  air  life  could  be  sustained,  and  Bradley  said  an  animal 
could  live  about  forty  million  mUes  above  the  earth,  if " 

Mrs.  Potts. — "Not  forty  millions,  my  dear;  only  forty  miles, 
he  said." 

P. — "Forty,  was  it?  Thank  you.  Well  sir,  old  Green,  you 
know,  said  that  was  ridiculous;  and  he  said  he'd  bet  Bradley  a 
couple  of  hundred  thousand  dollars  that  life  couldn't  be  sus- 
tained half  that  way  up,  and  so " 

Mrs.  P. — "WUliam,  you  are  wrong;  he  offered  to  bet  only  fifty 
dollars." 

P. — "Well,  anyhow,  Bradley  took  him  up  quicker'n  a  wink,  and 
they  agi'eed  to  send  up  a  cat  in  a  balloon  to  decide  the  bet.  So 
what  does  Bradley  do  but  buy  a  balloon  about  twice  as  big  as  our 
barn,  and  begin  to " 

31  rs  P. — "It  was  only  about  ten  feet  in  diameter,  Mr.  Adeler; 
William  forgets." 


142  HUMOROUS    HITS 

P. — "Begin  to  inflate  lior.  When  she  was  fillecl,  it  took  eighty 
men  to  hold  her,  and " 

Mrs.  P.— "Eighty  men,  Mr.  Potts?  Why,  you  know  Mr.  Brad- 
ley held  the  balloon  himseli'." 

P.— "He  did,  did  he?  Oh,  very  well;  what's  the  odds?  And 
when  everything  was  ready,  they  brought  out  Bradley's  tom-cat, 
and  put  it  in  the  basket,  and  tied  it  in  so  that  it  couldn't  jump, 
you  know.  There  were  about  one  hundred  thousand  people  look- 
ing on,  and,  when  they  let  go,  you  never  heard  such  a " 


Mrs.  P. — "There  were  not  more  than  two  hundred  people  there. 
I  counted  them  myself." 

P- — "Oh,  don't  bother  me !  I  say  you  never  heard  such  a  yell, 
as  the  balloon  went  scooting  up  into  the  sky,  pretty  near  out  of 
sight.  Bradley  said  she  went  up  about  one  thousand  miles,  and 
— now  don't  interrupt  me,  Henrietta;  I  know  what  the  man  said — 
and  that  cat,  mind  you,  a-howling  like  a  hundred  fog-horns,  so's 
you  could  a'  heard  her  from  here  to  Peru.  Well,  sir,  when  she 
was  up  so's  she  looked  as  small  as  a  pin-head,  something  or  other 
burst.  I  dunno  how  it  was,  but  pretty  soon  down  came  that 
balloon  a-flickering  toward  the  earth  at  the  rate  of  fifty  miles 
a  minute,  and  old " 

Mrs.  P. — "Mr.  Potts,  you  know  that  the  balloon  came  down  as 
gently  as " 

P. — "Oh,  do  hush  up !  Women  don't  know  anything  about  such 
things.  And  old  Bradley,  he  had  a  kind  of  a  registering  ther- 
mometer fixt  in  the  balloon  along  with  that  cat.  Some  sort  of  a 
patent  machine;  cost  thousands  of  dollars,  and  he  was  expecting 
to  examine  it ;  and  Green  had  an  idea  he'd  lift  out  a  dead  cat  and 
scoop  in  the  stakes.  When  all  of  a  sudden,  as  she  came  pelting 
down,  a  tornado  struck  her — now,  Ileni-ietta,  what  in  the  thunder 
are  you  staring  at  me  in  that  way  for?  It  was  a  tornado — a 
regular  cyclone — and  it  struck  her  and  jammed  her  against  the 
lightning-rod  on  the  Baptist  Church  steeple,  and  there  she  stuck 
— stuck  on  that  spire,  about  eight  hundred  feet  up  in  the  air." 

Mrs.  P. — "You  may  get  just  as  mad  as  you  like,  but  I  am 
positively  certain  that  steeple's  not  an  inch  over  ninety-five  feet." 

P- — "Henrietta,  I  wish  to  gracious  you'd  go  up-stairs  and  look 
after  the  children.     Well,  about  half  a  minute  after  she  struck 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  143 

out  stept  that  tom-cat  on  to  the  weathercock.  It  made  Green 
sick.  And  just  then  the  hurricane  reached  the  weathercock,  and 
it  began  to  revolve  six  hundred  or  seven  hundred  times  a  minute, 
the  cat  howlmg  until  you  couldn't  hear  yourself  speak — now,  Hen- 
rietta, you've  had  your  put;  you  keep  quiet.  That  cat  stood  on 
that  weathercock  about  two  months " 

Mrs.  P. — "Mr.  Potts,  that's  an  awful  story;  it  only  happened 
last  Tuesday." 

P.  (confidentially) — "Never  mind  her.  And  on  Sunday  the  way 
that  cat  carried  on  and  yowled,  with  its  tail  pointing  due  east,  was 
so  awful  that  they  couldn't  have  church.  And  Sunday  afternoon 
the  preacher  told  Bradley  if  he  didn't  get  that  cat  down  he'd 
sue  him  for  a  million  dollars  damages.  So  Bradley  got  a  gun,  and 
shot  at  the  cat  fourteen  hundred  times — now,  you  didn't  count 
'em,  Henrietta,  and  I  did^and  he  banged  the  top  of  the  steeple 
all  to  splinters,  and  at  last  fetched  down  the  cat,  shot  to  rags, 
and  in  her  stomach  he  found  the  thennometer.  She'd  ate  it  on 
her  way  up,  and  it  stood  at  eleven  hundred  degrees,  so  old " 

Mrs.  P. — "No  thermometer  ever  stood  at  such  a  figure  as  that." 

P.  (indignantly) — "Oh,  well,  if  you  think  you  can  tell  the  story 
better  than  I  can,  why  don't  you  tell  it?  You're  enough  to  worry 
the  life  out  of  a  man." 

Then  Potts  slammed  the  door  and  went  out,  and  I  left.  I 
don't  know  whether  Bi'adley  got  the  stakes  or  not. 


^      AT  FIVE   O'CLOCK  TEA 

BY  MORRIS  WADE 

"So  good  of  you  to  come !" 

"Ah,  thanks.'"' 

"So  good  of  you  to  come !" 

"As  if  I  could  get  along  without  you!  The  obligation  is  all 
on  my  side." 

"How  sweet  of  you  to  say  so!" 

"Now  I  want  you  to  meet  Mrs.  Slambang.  Mrs.  Slambang,  let 
me  present  to  you  my  deah  friend,  Mrs.  Twiddle-twaddle." 

"So  glad  to  know  you,  Mrs.  Slambang !     I  have  so  often  heard 


144  HUMOEOUS    HITS 

deab  ]\Irs.  Sweet  speak  of  you  that  I  feel  quite  as  if  I  knew  you. 
Beautiful  day,  isn't  itf 

"Cliawming !" 

"What  a  lovely  wintah  we  are  having." 

"Chawming!     So  veiy,  very  gay,  isn't  it?" 

"Oh,  very,  very  gay!    Haven't  I  met  you  at  Mrs.  Titters'  teas?" 

"I  daresay  you  have.    Isn't  she  a  deah  f 

"Oh,  I  am  extravagantly  fond  of  her!" 

"I  am,  too.    So  elevah!" 

"Of  course  you  go  to  the  opera?" 

"Oh,  I  couldn't  exist  without  it.    Oh,  Melba !  Melba !" 

"And  Nordica !    I  rave  over  them  all !" 

"I  fairly  CRY  over  them.  And,  do  you  know,  I  have  a  friend 
who  does  not  care  in  the  least  for  them.    She  isn't  a  bit  musical." 

"Oh,  how  sad!     I  would  die  if  I  did  not Who  is  the  tall 

lady  in  black  over  by  the  piano?" 

"I'm  sure  I  do  not  know.  What  exquisite  lace  on  her  gown! 
Do  you  know  that  I  just  simply  rave  over  beautiful  lace!" 

"Really?" 

"Yes,  indeed !    I  care  more  for  it  than  for  jewels,  because  it 

Do  you  know  the  tall,  fine-looking  man  who  has  just  come  in?" 

"I'm   sure   I   have   seen   him   somewhere,    and   yet   I   can   not 

Yes,  thank  you,  I  think  I  will  have  a,  cup  of  tea.    How  lovely 

the  dining-room  looks!" 

"Lovely !" 

"Mrs.  Sweet  has  such  exquisite  taste !" 

"EXQUISITE!     I  often  say How  do  you  do,  my  deah? 

So  glad  to  see  you !" 

"Thanks !     So  glad  to  meet  YOU !" 

"So  good  of  you  to  say  so!     Quite  well,  deah?" 

"Oh,  vulgarly  so.  I  really  must  say  good-by  to  dear  Mrs. 
Sweet  and  go.  I  must  look  in  at  Mrs.  Shoddy's  for  a  few  min- 
utes." 

"So  must  I.    We'll  go  together." 

"HOW  LOVELY!  Good-by,  deah  Mrs.  Sweet.  Have  had 
such  a  chawming  time  !" 

"Must  you  go  so  soon  ?" 

"Yes,  really!    Such  a  lovely  time!" 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  145 

"So  glad!  But  it  is  quite  naughty  of  you  to  go  so  soon.  So 
glad  you  came !" 

"By-by,  deali." 

*'By-by.     You  will  come  to  see  me  soon?" 

"Yes,  indeed." 

"You  MUST.    By-by !" 

"By-by!" 

And  as  she  gathers  up  her  trailing  skirts  to  walk  down  the  steps^ 
she  says :  "Thank  goodness,  that's  over !" 

Reprinted  from  LippincoWs  Magazine. 

KEEP  A-GOINM 

BY  FRANK  L.   STANTON 

If  you  strike  a  thorn  or  rose, 

Keep  a-goin' ! 
'If  it  hails  or  if  it  snows, 

Keep  a-goin' ! 
'Taint  no  use  to  sit  an'  whine 
When  the  fish  ain't  on  your  line; 
Bait  your  hook  an'  keep  on  tryin' — 

Keep  a-goin' ! 

When  the  weather  kills  your  crop, 

Keep  a-goin' ! 
When  you  tumble  from  the  top. 

Keep  a-goin' ! 
S'pose  you're  out  of  every  dime? 
Gittin'  broke  ain't  any  crime; 
Tell  the  world  you're  feelin'  prime, — 

Keep  a-goin' ! 

When  it  looks  like  all  is  up. 

Keep  a-goin' ! 
Drain  the  sweetness  from  the  cup. 

Keep  a-goui' ! 
See  the  wild  birds  on  the  wing ! 
Hear  the  bells  that  sweetly  ring — 
When  you  feel  like  sighin' — sing! 

Keep  a-goin' ! 


146  HUMOROUS    HITS 

A  LOVER'S  QUARREL 

BY  CYNTHIA  COLES 

''0  Kitty,  yon  are  so  sweet,  and  I  do  love  you  so.  Tell  me 
you  love  me,  dearie." 

"I  do  love  you,  Dick;  why,  I  never  supposed  I  could  love  any- 
body so  much." 

"0  little  girl,  I  only  wished  you  loved  me  half  as  much  as 
I  love  you." 

''Half  as  much !  Whj',  dear,  I  love  you  more  than  you  love 
me — a  great  deal  more " 

"Now.  don't  be  silly,  pet.  It  would  be  impossible  for  you  to 
love  me  as  much  as  I  love  you.    Of  course,  I  love  you  best." 

'*0f  course  you  don't !  You  love  me,  I  know,  but  not  as  much 
as  I  love  you." 

"Now,  Kitty,  be  reasonable." 

"I  will  if  you'll  admit  that  I  do  love  you  best." 

"How  can  I  admit  what  isn't  truef 

"Well,  you  might  say  it  was  so  just  to  please  me." 

"Oh,  no,  dear,  I  can't  do  that." 

"Because  vou  don't  love  me  enough !" 

"Oh,  the  idea !" 

"If  you  did  love  nie  the  best,  you'd  say  anything  I  asked  you 
to,  whether  it  was  true  or  not." 

"Would  xjou  do  that?" 

"Of  course  I  would." 

"All  right,  then  you  admit  that  I  love  you  best,  because  I  ask 
you  to  do  so !" 

"0  Dick,  how  horrid  you  are!  How  can  you  be  so  cruel  to  mef 

"There,  there,  don't  cry.  I'll  admit  that  you  love  me  best, 
but  I  only  admit  it  because  you  ask  me  to." 

"Then  that's  all  right." 

"But,  don't  you  see,  Kitty,  when  I  say  that  because  you  ask 
me  to,  and  you  ivon't  say  it  when  I  ask  you  to,  that  2Jroves  I  love 
you  best  after  all." 

"There  you  go  on  again !  I  do  think  you're  too  mean  for  any- 
thing !" 


HUMOROUS    HITS  I47 

"Well,  never  mind,  sweetheart,  let's  kiss  and  be  friends.  You 
do  love  me  best  I'm  sure." 

"Oh,  no,  I  don't,  Dick.  Oh,  you  are  so  sweet.  You  love  me 
best,  darling." 

"Oh,  no,  I  don't,  love.  You  love  me  best !" 

"No,  my  Dick,  ijou  love  me  best " 


CASEY  AT  THE  BAT 

BY   PHINEAS   THAYER 

It  looked  extremely  rocky  for  the  Mudville  nine  that  day; 
The  score  stood  two  to  four,  with  but  an  inning  left  to  play. 
So,  when  Cooney  died  at  second,  and  Burrows  did  the  same, 
A  pallor  wreathed  the  features  of  the  patrons  of  the  game. 

A  straggling  few  got  up  to  go,  leaving  there  the  rest, 
With  that  hope  which  springs  eternal  within  the  human  breast, 
For  they  thought :  "If  only  Casey  could  get  a  whack  at  that," 
They'd  put  up  even  money  now,  with  Casey  at  the  bat. 

But  Flynn  preceded  Casey,  and  likewise  so  did  Blake, 

And  the  former  was  a  puddin',  and  the  latter  was  a  fake, 

So  on  that  stricken  multitude  a  deathlike  silence  sat. 

For  there  seemed  but  little  chance  of  Casey's  getting  to  the  bat. 

But  Flynn  let  drive  a  "single,"  to  the  wonderment  of  all. 
And  the  much-despised  Blakey  "tore  the  cover  off  the  ball." 
And  when  the  dust  had  lifted,  and  they  saw  what  had  occurred, 
There  was  Blakey  safe  at  second,  and  Flynn  a-huggin'  third. 

Then,  from  the  gladdened  multitude  went  up  a  joyous  yell. 
It  rumbled  in  the  mountain-tops,  it  rattled  in  the  dell; 
It  struck  upon  the  hillside  and  rebounded  on  the  flat; 
For  Casey,  mighty  Casey,  was  advancing  to  the  bat. 


148  HUMOROTJS    HITS 

There  was  ease  in  Casey's  manner  as  he  stept  into  his  place; 
There  was  pride  in  Casey's  bearing,  and  a  smile  on  Casey's  face. 
And  when,  responding  to  the  cheers,  he  lightly  doffed  his  hat, 
No  stranger  in  the  crowd  could  doubt  'twas  Casey  at  the  bat. 

Ten  thousand  eyes  were  on  him  as  he  rubbed  his  hands  with  dirt, 
Five  thousand  tongues   ai)plauded  when  he  wiped  them  on  his 

shirt ; 
Then  while  the  New  York  pitcher  ground  the  ball  into  his  hip, 
Defiance  gleamed  in  Casey's  eye,  a  sneer  curled  Casey's  lip. 

And  now  the  leather-covered  sphere  came  hurling  through  the  air, 
And  Casey  stood  a-watching  it  in  haughty  grandeur  there. 
Close  by  the  sturdy  batsman  the  ball  unheeded  sped — 
"That  ain't  my  style,"  said  Casey.    "Strike  one,"  the  umpire  said. 

From  the  benches,  black  with  people,  there  went  np  a  muffled 

roar, 
Like  the  beating  of  storm  waves  on  a  stern  and  distant  shore. 
"Kill  him !    Kill  the  umpire !"  shouted  some  one  on  the  stand. 
And  it's  likely  they'd  have  killed  him  had  not  Casey  raised  a 

hand. 

With  a  smile  of  Christian  charity  great  Casey's  visage  shone; 
He  stilled  the  rising  tumult ;  he  bade  the  game  go  on : 
He  signaled  to  Sir  Timothy,  once  more  the  spheroid  flew; 
But  Casey  still  ignored  it,  and  the  umpire  said,  "Strike  two." 

"Fraud!"   cried   the  maddened   thousands,     and     echo    answered 

"Fraud !" 
But  one  scornful  look  from  Casey  and  the  audience  was  awed. 
They  saw   his  face  grow  stern   and  cold,   they  saw  his  muscles 

strain, 
And  they  knew  that  Casey  wouldn't  let  that  ball  go  by  again. 


HUMOROUS    HITS  149 

The  sneer  is  gone  from  Casey's  lip,  his  teeth  are  clenched  in  hate ; 
He  pounds  with  cruel  violence  his  bat  upon  the  plate. 
And  now  the  pitcher  holds  the  ball,  and  now  he  lets  it  go, 
And  now  the  air  is  shattered  by  the  force  of  Casey's  blow. 

Ah,  somewhere  in  this  favored  land  the  sun  is  shining  bright; 
The  band  is  playing  somewhere,  and  somewhere  hearts  are  light. 
And  somewhere  men  are  laughing,  and  somewhere  children  shout: 
But  there  is  no  joy  in  Mudville — mighty  Casey  has  struck  out. 


FAMILIAR  LINES 

ANONYMOUS 

(Arranged  so  that  the  little  ones  can  always  remember  them) 

The  boy  stood  on  the  burning  deck, 

His  fleece  was  white  as  snow; 
He  stuck  a  feather  m  his  hat, 

John  Anderson,  my  Jo ! 

"Come  back,  come  back !"  he  cried  in  grief, 

From  India's  coral  strands. 
The  frost  is  on  the  pumpkin  and  • 

The  village  smithy  stands. 

Am  I  a  soldier  of  the  cross 

From  many  a  boundless  plain? 
Should  auld  acquaintance  be  forgot 

Where  saints  immortal  reign? 

Ye  banks  and  braes  o'  bonny  Doon 

Across  the  sands  o'  Dee, 
Can  you  forget  that  night  in  June — 

My  countiy,  'tis  of  thee! 


150  HUMOROUS    HITS 

Of  all  sad  words  of  tongue  or  pen, 
We're  saddest  when  we  sing, 

To  beard  the  lion  in  his  den — 
To  set  before  the  king. 

Hark !  from  the  tombs  a  doleful  sound, 

And  Phoebus  gins  arise ; 
All  mimsy  were  the  borogroves 

To  mansions  in  the  skies. 


A  FRIENDLY  GAME  OF  CHECKERS 
ANOKTirOUS 

"Now,  my  dear,"  said  Mr,  Italics,  as  he  drew  on  his  slippers 
and  settled  himself  for  the  evening,  "if  you  will  get  the  checker- 
board, I'll  play  you  a  game — you're  learning  so  rapidly  that  it's 
really  a  j^leasure  to  tiy  quits  with  you." 

Mrs.  Italics  giggled  with  delight,  kissed  her  husband  on  the 
top  of  the  head  and  fluttered  away  to  find  the  board  and  checkers. 
After  she  had  found  them,  she  plumped  herself  down  in  a  rock- 
ing-chair about  a  foot  and  a  half  lower  than  his  easy-chair  and 
arranged  the  apparatus  at  an  angle  of  fifty  degrees,  whereupon 
Mr.  Italics  said : 

"I  think  you  misapprehend  my  suggestion.  I  didn't  propose 
to  go  sliding  down  hill  at  this  season  of  the  year,  neither  do  I 
intend  to  shoot  the  chutes.  My  idea  was  a  game  of  checkers  and 
if  you  think  those  men  are  going  to  stand  around  on  a  board 
tipped  up  on  one  end  and  wait  to  be  moved,  you  are  not  familiar 
with  their  habits." 

"Perhaps  I  had  better  put  a  book  under  it;  or  if  you  could 
lower  your  knees  a  little  it  would  come  even." 

"Oh,  that's  your  idea,  is  it?  My  knees  weren't  constructed 
with  special  regard  to  playing  checkers.  They  were  put  where 
they  are  and  fastened  and  they  won't  run  up  and  down  like  a 
flag.  Do  you  think  I'm  the  india-rubber  man  from  the  circus, 
or  the  cork-legged  man  from  Oskoloosa?  If  you  can't  hold  up 
your  side  of  the  board,  we  won't  play." 


HUMOKOUS    HITS  151 

"Now,  dear,  it's  all  right.  Let  me  see,  is  it  your  move,  or 
mine?" 

"What  are  you  trying  to  play?  Do  you  think  this  is  a  game 
of  baseball?  Don't  you  know  you've  got  to  move  cattecornered ? 
'Taint  your  move  anyway.  Put  that  back.  There.  Now  I'll 
move  there." 

"Oh,  I  know  you're  going  to  jump  me  and  take  my  man,"  said 
Mrs.  Italics,  pickmg  up  the  checker  she  had  moved  before  and 
putting  it  in  her  mouth.  "If  I  put  it  here,  you'll " 

"SWALLOW  IT,  why  don't  you?  If  you  don't  want  it  taken, 
why  don't  you  masticate  it?  Can't  you  leave  the  thing  alone 
until  you  get  ready  to  move?    Put  it  down  before  it  chokes  you." 

"There,  dear  {swalloiving  it),  I've  put  it  down,  but  it  hurt 
my  throat." 

"What  in  thunder  do  you  mean  by  eating  up  my  set  of  checkers. 
When  I  said  'put  it  down'  I  meant  put  it  back  on  the  board.  Will 
you  please  play  this  game  instead  of  masticating  it." 

"If  I  put  this  man  there,  you'll  jump  it." 

"Just  Avatch  and  see." 

"Now,  I'll  put  this  man  there, — no, — perhaps  I  had  better 
move  here, — or  I  think  I'll " 

"Going  to  move  in  six  places  at  once?  Think  this  is  the  first 
of  May  and  that  you're  looking  for  a  new  flat  ?  'Taint  your  move 
anyway.  Now  will  you  please  hold  the  board  straight?  D'ye 
think  this  is  a  washboaixl?  Well  it  isn't  and  it  isn't  a  teeter- 
board  either.    Now,  I'll  move  into  your  king  row.    Ha !  ha !" 

"Then  do  I  jump  these  two  men  and  get  a  king?  Of  course, 
I  do.     Crown  me  !    I've  got  the  first  king !" 

"No,  you  haven't.  I  didn't  mean  that  move.  If  you  can't  play 
checkers  without  cackling  like  a  hen  you'd  better  stop.  I'll  take 
back  that  move.    Now,  so.    Now  you  can  move." 

"Over  here." 

"Certamly.    That's  splendid.    Now  I'll  take  these  two  men." 

"I  didn't  see  that,  I'd  rather  put  it  here." 

"Too  late  now.  You  can't  take  back  a  move  in  this  game.  You 
should  study  your  moves  first." 

"Well,  if  I  jump  here  I  get  another  king." 

"What  do  you  want  to  tumble  them  all  over  for?     Haven't 


152  HUMOROUS   HITS 

you  got  any  sense  scarcely?  You  make  more  fuss  over  a  measly 
king  than  most  women  over  a  mouse.  Don't  you  know  it's  my 
move?  Give  me  back  those  men.  Can't  you  hold  the  board 
straight?  What's  that?  Oh,  of  course,  you  know.  You  know  it 
all.  All  you  want  is  a  pair  of  hinges  and  painted  sides  to  be  a 
checker-box.  If  ever  I  want  to  play  with  some  good  player 
I'll  put  the  coal-scuttle  on  your  head  and  move  you  around  for 
a  king.  There  goes  the  whole  business !  Now,  are  you  satisfied  ? 
Do  you  wonder  a  man  won't  play  checkers  with  a  woman?  I'll 
throw  the  measly  things  out  of  the  window  so  that  I  won't  waste 
any  time  playing  with  you  again."  And  Mr.  Italics  suited  the 
action  to  the  word.    But  then  Mr.  Italics  was  such  au  odd  type. 


MODERN  ROMANCE 

BY    HENRY    M.    BLOSSOM,    JR. 

Information,  speculation;  fluctuation;  ruination. 
Dissipation,  degradation;  refornuition  or  starvation. 
Application,  situation;  occupation,  restoration. 
Concentration,  enervation,  nerve  prostration.   A  vacation. 
Destination,  country  station.     Nice  location,  recreation. 
Exploration,  observation;  fascination — a  flirtation. 
Trepidation,  hesitation,  conversation,  simulation; 
Invitation,  acclamation,  sequestration,  cold  libation. 
Stimulation,  animation ;  inspiration,  new  potation. 
Demonstration,  agitation,  circulation,  exclamation ! 
Declaration,  acceptation,  osculation,  sweet  sensation. 
Exultation,  preparation,  combination,  new  relation. 

From  The  Smart  Set,  New  York. 


HUMOROUS    HITS  153 

LULLABY 

BY    PAUL    LAURENCE    DUNBAR 

Kiver  up  yo'  haicl,  my  little  lady, 

Hyeah  de  win'  a-blowin'  out  o'  do's. 
Don'  you  kick,  ner  projick  wid  de  comfo't, 

Less'n  fros'll  bite  yo'  little  toes. 
Shut  yo'  eyes  an'  snuggle  up  to  mammy, 

Gi'  'me  b'ofe  yo'  ban's,  I  bol'  'em  tight; 
Don'  you  be  afeard  an'  'mence  to  trimble 

Des  ez  soon  ez  I  blows  out  de  light. 

Angels  is  a-mindin'  you,  my  baby, 

Keepin'  off  de  Bad  ]\Ian  m  de  night. 
What  de  use  o'  bein  skeered  o'  nuffin'  1 

You  don'  fink  de  dakness  gwine  to  bite  ? 
What  de  crackin'  soun'  you  heah  erroun'  you? 

Lawsey,  chile,  you  tickles  me  to  def : — 
Dats  de  man  what  brings  de  fros',  a  paintin' 

Picters  on  de  winder  wid  his  bref. 

Mammy  ain'  afeard,  you  hyeah  huh  laffin'? 

Go'  away,  Mistah  Fros',  you  can't  come  in ; 
Baby  ain'  receivin'  folks  this  evenm', 

Reckon  dat  you'll  have  to  call  agin. 
Curl  yo'  little  toes  up  so,  my  possum— 

Umph,  but  you's  a  cunnin'  one  fu'  true! 
Go  to  sleep,  de  angels  is  a-watchin'. 

An'  yo'  mammy's  mindin'  of  you,  too. 


Reprinted  by  permission. 


154  HUMOROUS    HITS 

THE  REASON  WHY 

BY   MARY   E.    BRADLEY 

"When  I  was  at  the  party,"  said  Betty  (aged  just  four), 
"A  little  girl  fell  off  her  chair,  right  down  upon  the  floor; 
And  all  the  other  little  girls  began  to  laugh  but  me — 
I  didn't  laugh  a  single  bit,"  said  Betty,  seriously. 
"Why  not?"  her  mother  asked  her,  full  of  delight  to  find 
That  Betty — bless  her  little  heart — had  been  so  sweetly  kind. 
"Why  didn't  you  laugh,  darling,  or  don't  you  like  to  tellf 
"I  didn't  laugh,"  said  Betty,  "  'cause  it  was  me  that  fell !" 

HOW  A  BACHELOR  SEWS  ON  A  BUTTON 

ANONYMOUS 

This  is  a  very  laughable  piece  of  pantomime.  It  is  well  to  have 
a  small  table  and  a  chair,  but  everything  else  is  left  to  the 
imagination  of  the  audience.  The  success  of  the  selection  depends 
upon  the  varied  facial  expression  and  other  business.  It  is  ad- 
visable to  first  practise  with  a  needle  and  thread  so  as  to  get  a 
correct  imitation. 

First  say  to  the  audience :  "Ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  shall  en- 
deavor to  give  you  an  imitation  of  how  a  bachelor  sews  on  a 
button."  Then  seat  yourself  and  take  from  the  table  an  imaginary 
spool  of  thread.  Hold  it  in  your  left  hand  and  pull  out  several 
lengths  with  your  right  hand.  Then  bite  the  thread  off  and  put 
the  spool  back  on  the  table.  Hold  the  end  of  the  thread  in  your 
left  hand,  then  wet  the  first  finger  and  thumb  of  your  right 
hand  and  make  the  tlu-ead  into  a  point.  Now  start  to  thread 
your  needle.  The  thread  refuses  to  find  the  eye  of  the  needle 
and  there  is  a  lot  of  laughable  business  here.  Change  your 
position  frequently,  and  at  every  turn  vary  the  facial  expression. 
Then  blow  through  the  eye  of  the  needle.  Just  as  you  tliink  you 
have  at  last  put  the  thread  through,  the  needle  is  lost  and  you 


HUMOROUS    HITS  155 

look  all  over  for  it.  After  some  difficulty  you  find  it  on  the  floor. 
Then  as  .you  seat  yourself  again  you  find  the  thread  m  a  snarl, 
so  j'ou  take  the  spool  again  and  liuW  off  several  fresh  lengths. 
Try  again  to  thread  the  needle  and  as  you  get  it  through  the 
needle's  eye,  turn  it  very  carefully  around  and  take  hold  of  the 
thread  with  your  teeth,  drawing  it  through  slowl^^  with  appropriate 
facial  expression.  Now  tie  a  knot  m  your  thread  and  to  make  it 
secure  bite  it  with  yovtr  teeth.  Reach  to  the  table  for  your 
imaginary  button  and  place  it  on  the  inside  of  your  coat.  Begin 
to  sew,  with  difficulty  at  first,  pullhig  the  thread  through  at  arm's 
length.  At  the  third  stitch  prick  your  finger  and  jump  as  if  m 
great  pain.  The  thread  gradually  gets  shorter.  As  you  seem 
to  gain  facility  you  begin  to  smile.  Then  wind  the  thread  around 
the  button,  make  several  short  stitches,  and  bite  it  off  with  your 
teeth.  Now  stand  and  try  to  button  your  coat.  You  first  feel 
for  the  button  but  can  not  find  it.  Then  you  look  down  at  your 
coat,  but  there  is  no  button  there.  You  turn  the  coat  over  and 
discover  that  you  have  sewed  the  button  on  the  inside.  With  a 
look  of  anger  you  pull  tlie  button  off  the  coat,  throw  it  violently 
on  the  floor,  and  exit  hastily. 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS 

ANOKYMOUS 

Deesa  man  llva  in  Italia  a  gooda  longa  time  ago.  He  hada  a 
greata  heada  ever  since  he  was  a  kidda.  Not  a  bigga  heada  likea 
de  politicians  nowaday — not  a  swella  heada.  His  fadda  keepa 
de  standa  in  Italia.  Sella  de  peanutta  and  de  banan.  Maka 
plente  de  mon.  Christopher  Colum  he  say,  "Fadda,  gimma  de 
stamp,  I  go  finda  de  new  world."  His  fadda  he  laugh,  "Ha !  ha !" 
just  so.  Den  Christopher  he  say,  "Whata  you  maka  fun?  I 
betta  you  I  finda  new  world."  After  a  long  time  his  fadda  say, 
"You  go  finda  new  world,  and  bringa  it  over  here."  Den  de  olda 
man  he  buy  him  a  grip-sack,  an'  giva  him  boodle,  an'  maka  him 
a  present  of  three  ships  to  come  over  to  deesa  contra.  Well, 
Christopher  Colum  he  sail^,  an'  saila  for  gooda  many  day.     He 


156  HUMOEOUS    HITS 

don't  see  any  landa.  An'  he  say,  "I  giva  fiva-dollar-bill  if  I  was 
back  ill  Italia !"  Well,  he  saila,  an'  he  saila,  an'  vera  soon  he 
strika  Coney  Island.  Den  dat  maka  him  glad!  Very  soon  he 
coma  to  Castle  Garden,  an'  den  he  walka  up  Broadway  an'  he 
feel  very  bada.  He  finda  outa  dat  de  Irish  gang  has  gotta  pos- 
session of  New  Yorka!  He  don't  lika  de  Irish,  an'  de  Shaniroeka 
donta  lika  him.  lie  donta  go  vera  far  before  a  pleasanter  mana 
speaks  to  him.  He  say,  "How-a-you  do,  Mista  Jones?  How 
a-de  folks  in  Pittaburg?"  Christopher  Colum  he  say,  "I  notta 
Mista  Jones;  I  reada  the  papers;  I  tinka  you  sella  de  green 
goods,  ha?  You  go  away,  or  I  broka  your  jaw!"  Den  he  shaka 
hees  fista  deesa  way,  an'  de  man  he  skedaddle.  Den  he  tries  to 
crossa  de  Broad-a-Avay,  but  it  fulla  de  mud  an'  he  eauta  swim. 
Very  soon  he  sees  a  policeman  cluba  de  mana,  one,  two,  three 
times,  an'  he  feel  secka  de  stom' !  Next  he  meeta  de  politicians 
uppa  Tammany  Hall  an'  dees  wanta  him  to  runna  for  Alder- 
man. He  getta  plenty  friend.  He  learna  to  "settom  up"  at  de 
bar  many  times.    Next  day  he  hava  heada  lika  deesa ! 

His  fadda  writa :  ^'Wliy  you  notta  bringa  back  de  new  world? 
I  like  to  hava  de  earth!"  Christopher  Colum  he  writa  back  dat 
New  Yorka  is  already  in  de  hands  of  de  Shamrocka.  Den  he  goes 
to  Ohio  and  buys  a  place  an'  calla  it  after  himself — Colum.  Soon 
he  goa  broka  an'  taka  de  nexta  train  home  in  disgusta,  because 
he  reada  in  de  paper  dat  de  Fair  in  '93  will  be  holda  in  Chicago  I 


THE   FLY 

AKONYMOUS 

The  following  is  told  in  child  dialect.  She  finds  a  fly  and 
speaks  to  it  affectionately: 

"Poor  little  fly!  Am't  you  got  anyone  to  love  you?  Ain't 
you  got  any  brothers  or  any  sisters,  little  fly?  Ain't  you  got  any 
aunts,  little  fly?  Ain't  you  got  anyone  to  love  you?  Your 
mother  loves  you,  little  fly.  (She  slaps  her  hand  and  kills  the 
fly.)     Go  home  to  your  mother!" 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  157 

THE  YARN  OF  THE  "NANCY  BELL" 

BY  W.    S.   GILBERT 

'Twas  on  the  shores  that  round  our  coast 

From  Deal  to  Ramsgate  span, 
That  I  found  alone  on  a  piece  of  stone 

An  elderly  naval  man. 

His  hair  was  weedy,  his  beard  was  long, 

And  weedy  and  long  was  he. 
And  I  heard  this  wight  on  the  shore  recite 

In  a  singular  minor  key : 

"Oh,  I  am  a  cook,  and  a  captain  bold, 

And  the  mate  of  the  Nancy  brig, 
And  a  bo'sun  tight,  and  a  midshipmite, 

And  the  crew  of  the  captain's  gig!" 

And  he  shook  his  fists,  and  he  tore  his  hair, 

Till  I  really  felt  afraid. 
For  I  couldn't  help  thinking  the  man  had  been  drinking. 

And  so  I  simply  said: 

"0  elderly  man,  it's  little  I  know 

Of  the  duties  of  men  of  the  sea. 
And  I'll  eat  my  hand  if  I  understand 

How  you  can  possibly  be 

"At  once  a  cook  and  a  captain  bold, 

And  the  mate  of  the  Nancy  brig. 
And  a  bo'sun  tight,  and  a  midshipmite, 

And  the  crew  of  the  captain's  gig." 

Then  he  gave  a  hitch  to  his  trousers,  which 

Is  a  trick  all  seamen  larn. 
And  having  got  rid  of  a  thumpin'  quid. 

He  spun  this  painful  yarn: 


158  HUMOROUS    HITS 

"  'Twas  in  the  good  ship  Nancy  Bell 

That  we  sailed  to  the  Indian  sea, 
And  there  on  a  reef  we  come  to  grief, 

Which  has  often  occurred  to  me, 

"And  pretty  nigh  all  o'  the  crew  was  drowned, 

(There  was  seventy-seven  o'  soul), 
And  only  ten  of  the  Nancy's  men 

Said  'Here !'  to  the  muster  roll. 

"There  was  me,  and  the  cook,  and  the  captain  bold. 

And  the  mate  of  the  Nancy  brig, 
And  the  bo'sun  tight,  and  a  midshipmite. 

And  the  crew  of  the  captain's  gig. 

"For  a  month  we'd  neither  wittles  nor  drink, 

Till  a-hungry  we  did  feel, 
So  we  drawed  a  lot,  and  accordin'  shot 

The  captain  for  our  meal. 

"The  next  lot  fell  to  the  Nancy's  mate, 

And  a  delicate  dish  he  made; 
Then  our  appetite  with  the  midshipmite 

We  seven  survivors  stayed. 

"And  then  we  murdered  the  bo'sun  tight', 

And  he  much  resembled  pig; 
Then  we  wittled  free,  did  the  cook  and  me, 

On  the  crew  of  the  captain's  gig. 

"Then  only  the  cook  and  me  was  left. 

And  the  delicate  question,  'Which 
Of  us  two  goes  to  the  kettle?'  arose, 

And  we  argued  it  out  as  sich. 

"For  I  loved  that  cook  as  a  brother,  I  did, 

And  the  cook  he  Avorshiped  me; 
But  we'd  both  be  blowed  if  we'd  either  be  stowed 

In  the  other  chap's  hold,  you  see. 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  159 

"  'I'll  be  eat  if  you  dines  of  me,'  says  Tom 

'Yes,  that/  says  I,  'you'll  be.'  • 
'I'm  boiled  if  I  die,  my  friend,'  quoth  I ; 

And  'Exactly  so,'  quoth  he. 

"Says  he,  'Dear  James,  to  murder  me 

Were  a  foolish  thing  to  do. 
For  don't  you  see  that  you  can't  cook  me, 

While  I  can — and  will — cook  you?' 

"So  he  boils  the  water,  and  takes  the  salt, 

And  the  pepper  in  portions  true 
(Which  he  never  forgot),  and  some  chopped  shalot 

And  some  sage  and  parsley,  too. 

"  'Come  here,'  says  he,  with  a  proper  pride, 

Which  his  smiling  features  tell, 
'  'Twill  soothing  be  if  I  let  you  see 

How  extremely  nice  you'll  smell.' 

"And  he  sth-red  it  round  and  round  and  round, 

And  he  sniffed  at  the  foaming  froth — 
When  I  ups  with  his  heels,  and  smothers  his  squeals 

In  the  scum  of  the  boiling  broth. 

"And  I  eat  that  cook  in  a  week  or  less, 

And — as  I  eating  be 
The  last  of  his  chops,  why,  I  almost  drops, 

For  a  wessel  in  sight  I  see. 


"And  I  never  grieve,  and  I  never  smile, 

And  I  never  larf  nor  play, 
But  I  sit  and  croak,  and  a  single  joke 

I  have — which  is  to  say: 

"Oh,  I  am  a  cook,  and  a  captain  bold. 
And  the  mate  of  the  Nancy  brig, 

And  a  bo'sun  tight,  and  a  midshipmite, 
And  the  crew  of  the  captain's  gig !" 


160  HUMOROUS    HITS 

I  TOL'  YER  SO 

BY  JOHN  L.  IIEATON 

John  Jones  he  was  the  beatenus  cuss. 
Alius  a-pickin'  'n'  sayin'  to  us: 

"I  tol'  yer  so,  I  tol'  yer  so !" 
No  matter  what  happened,  he'd  up  an'  say: 
"Yer  sorry  ye  done  it,  haint  ye,  hey? 

Well,  well,  I  tol'  yer  so !" 

When  Kerin-Happuck  wuz  tuk  down  sick 
From  the  pizen  ivy  she'd  gin  a  lick, 

He'd  tol'  us  so,  he'd  tol'  us  so. 
*N'  Shadrack's  fuss  with  his  mother-in-law, 
Before  the  weddin'  John  Jones  foresaw; 

Well,  well,  he  tol'  us  so. 

If  a  fellow  wuz  hit  by  a  fallin'  tree. 

Or  kicked  by  a  horse,  says  Jones,  says  he : 

"I  tol'  yer  so,  I  tol'  yer  so!" 
If  a  barn  tuck  fire,  or  a  well-sweep  broke, 
We  mijrlit  a-knowed  it  before  Jones  spoke, 

The  time  he  tol'  us  so. 

It  got  so  tejus,  says  Bill  one  day: 

"Ye're  a  dern  ol'  idjit,  'ith  nothin'  ter  say 

But  'tol'  yer  so,'  'n  'tol'  yer  so,' — 
A  mean,  contemptible,  sneakin'  cuss!" 
'N'  jes  from  habit,  Jones  sez  to  us: 

"Well,  well,  I  tol'  yer  so!" 


HUMOKOUS    HITS  161 

"YOU   GIT   UP!" 

BT   JOE   KERR 

There's  lots  of  folks  that  has  good  times, 

There's  lots  that  never  does; 
But  the  ones  that  don't  like  morning  naps 

Is  the  meanest  ever  wuz. 
It's  veiy  nice  to  eat  a  meal 

With  pie  for  its  wind-up; 
'Taint  half  so  sweet's  th'  nap  pa  spoils 

When  he  yells,  "You  git  up !" 

I'd  rather  lay  in  bed  and  snooze, 

Jest  one  small  minit  more 
In  the  morning,  when  the  sunshine 

Comes  a-ereeping  o'er  the  floor, 
Then  to  go  to  Barnum's  circus  or 

To  own  a  bulldog  pup. 
The  meanest  thing  pa  ever  said 

Wuz,  "Come  now — you  git  up !" 

I  like  to  go  in  swimming, 

And  I  like  to  play  baseball: 
I  like  to  fight  and  fiy  a  kite, 

'N'  I  sometimes  like  to  bawl ; 
But  them  thare  forty  winks  of  sleep 

Pa  tries  to  interrup', 
Is  better  'n'  all.    It  breaks  my  heart 

When  pa  yells,  "You  git  up !" 

I'd  stand  the  hurt  and  ache  and  pain 

And  all  the  smart  and  itch 
Of  having  him  turn  the  bedclothes  down 

To  wake  me  with  a  switch, 
Ef  he  'ud  on'y  jest  go  'way 

And  let  me  finish  up 
The  nap  I  started  jest  before 

He  yelled  out,  "You  git  up !" 


162  HUMOKOUS    HITS 

You  bet,  when  I  git  growed  up  big, 

Es  rich  'ii'  old  as  pa, 
'N'  never  haf  to  go  to  school, 

Nor  work  nor  stand  no  jaw — 
I'll  sleep  all  day  and  all  night,  too, 

And  only  jest  git  up 
When  I  git  'nough  sleep  to  suit  me 

Ef  all  the  world  yells,  "You  git  up !" 

By  permission  of  G.W.  Dillingham  Company. 

PRESENTATION  OF  THE  TRUMPET 

ANONYMOUS 

In  the  days  of  the  old  volunteer  fire  department  there  existed 
hi  this  city  a  certain  hose  company  noted  for  the  bravery  of  its 
foreman,  whose  reckless  daring  in  time  of  danger,  coupled  with 
his  pugilistic  attainments,  had  made  him  a  local  celebrity. 

The  members  of  his  company  decided  to  present  him  with  a 
handsome  silver  trumpet,  as  an  expression  of  their  regard  and  ap- 
preciation of  his  pluck,  courage  and  fighting  qualities.  One  of 
the  members  was  chosen  to  prepare  a  fitting  speech  for  the  occa- 
sion, and  after  some  weeks  of  labor  announced  himself  as  being 
thoroughly  prepared  for  the  task. 

In  the  meantime,  the  foreman,  who  was  supposed  to  be  in 
blissful  ignorance  of  all  the  preparations  being  made  to  surprize 
him,  was  let  into  the  "secret"  through  the  kindness  of  one  of  the 
boys.  He  recognized  this  as  his  supreme  opportunity  to  display 
his  literary  qualifications  in  the  shape  of  a  speech  of  acceptance. 
He  secured  the  services  of  a  literary  friend  to  write  a  glowing 
oration,  replete  with  metaphors,  similes,  and  sweet-sounding  po- 
etry, expressing  his  "unworthiness  of  the  honor,"  the  "deep  grati- 
tude which  words  failed  him  to  adequately  express,"  etc. 

The  night  in  question  at  last  arrived.  The  building  was  filled 
to  overflowing.  The  band  played  "See  the  Conquering  Hero 
Comes,"  and  the  boys  gave  three  hearty  cheers  and  a  "tiger"  for 
the  proud  foreman. 

The  chairman  advanced  to  the  front,  holdmg  the  massive  trum- 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  163 

pet  in  one  hand,  wliile  his  other  hand  grasped  convulsively  at  the 
collar  of  his  shirt. 

After  staring  around  the  room  and  giving  a  few  preparatory 
coughs,  he  said: 

'*Mr.  Foreman,  and  Members  of  Hose  Company  Number  10: 

I — a — a — I — a — I {Looks  hard  at  the  f,oor.    Begins  again  with 

great  determination.)  Mr.  Foreman,  and  Members  of  Hose  Com- 
pany Number  10:    I — a — a — I — a — feel — I  feel  a {Puts  one 

hand  in  his  pocket  and  looks  very  foolish.  Begins  again,  shout- 
ing, and  looking  very  angry.)     Mr.  Foreman,  and  Members  of 

Hose  Company  Number  10 :  I — I — I — I  feel  a — much  a  pleas 

{Word  sticks  in  his  throat.  Very  angrily,  and  striding  toward 
the  foreman.)     Ah!  take  your  trumpet!" 

A  look  of  consternation  sjDread  over  the  faces  of  the  boys  at 
the  failure  of  their  spokesman,  and  there  were  many  whisperings 
of  "I  told  you  so !" 

It  was  now  the  foreman's  turn.  He  drew  his  hand  across  his 
mouth  and  began  as  follows : 

"Mr.  Chairman,  and  Members  of  Hose  Company  Number  10: 

It  is — it  is — it  is — it  is  with  a — with  a {Looks  at  ceiling,  and 

shifts  his  position  uneasily.  Begins  over  again,  with  a  very  confi- 
dent air.)  Mr.  Chairman,  and  Members  of  Hose  Company  Num- 
ber 10:  It  is  with — with  a — with  a — with  a — a — a — a — a  heart 
{Stops,  stares  wildly  at  the  ceiling,  floor  and  company.  Be- 
gins over  again,  very  angrily,  and  ivith  his  body  in  fighting 
attitude.)  Mr.  Chairman,  and  Members  of  Hose  Company  Num- 
ber 10:     I — I — I — it  is — it  is  with  a  heart — with  a  heart  full — 

full {Stops.     Very   loud  and  violently.)      Ah!   give  us  yer 

trumpet !" 

DON'T  USE  BIG  WORDS 

ANONYMOUS 

In  promulgating  your  esoteric  cogitations,  or  articulating  your 
superficial  sentimentalities  and  amicable,  philosophical  or  psycho- 
logical observations,  beware  of  platitudinous  ponderosity.  Let 
your  conversational  communications  possess  a  clarified  concise- 
ness, a  compact  comprehensibleness,  coalescent  consistency,  and 


164  HUMOEOUS    HITS 

a  concatenated  cogency.  Eschew  all  conglomerations  of  flatulent 
garrulity,  jejune  babblement  and  asinine  all'ectations.  Let  your 
extemporaneous  descantings  and  unpremeditated  expatiations  have 
intelligibility  and  veracious  vivacity,  without  rhodomontade  or 
thrasonical  bombast.  Sedulously  avoid  all  polysyllabic  profun- 
dity, pompous  prolixity,  psittaceous  vacuity,  ventriloquial  verbos- 
ity, and  vaniloquent  vapidity.  Shun  double-entendres,  prurient 
jocosity,  and  pestiferous  profanity,  obscurant  or  apparent. 

In  other  words,  talk  plainly,  briefly,  naturally,  sensibly,  truth- 
fully, purely.  Keep  from  "slang";  don't  put  on  airs;  say  what 
you  mean ;  mean  what  you  say.    And  don't  use  big  words ! 


DER  MULE  SHTOOD  ON  DER  STEAMBOAD  DECK 

ANONYMOUS 

Der  mule  shtood  on  der  steamboad  deck, 

For  der  land  he  wouldn't  dread, 
Dhey  tied  a  balder  rount  his  neck, 

Und  vaeked  him  over  der  headt. 

But  obstinate  und  braced  he  shtood, 

As  born  der  scene  to  rule, 
A  creature  of  der  holt-back  brood — 

A  shtubborn,  shtedfast  mule. 

Dhey  curst  und  shwore,  but  he  vould  not  go 

Undill  he  felt  inclined, 
Und  dhough  dhey  dundored  blow  on  blow. 

He  aldered  nod  his  mind. 

Der  boats-boy  to  der  shore  complained, 

"Der  vanxiint's  bound  do  shtay," 
Shtill  ubon  dot  olt  mule's  hide 

Der  sounding  lash  made  blay. 


HUMOEOUS    HlTtt  165 

His  masder  from  der  shore  reblied, 

"Der  boats  aboud  do  sail; 
As  oder  means  in  vain  you've  dried, 

Subbose  you  dwist  his  dail. 

"I  dhink  dot  dat  will  magke  him  land^" 

Der  boats-boy  brave,  dhough  bale, 
Den  near  drew  mit  oudstretched  hand, 

Do  maffke  der  dwist  avail. 


•'&'■ 


Dhen  game  a  kick  of  thunder  sound ! 

Dot  boy — oh,  vhere  vas  he? 
Ask  of  der  vaves  dot  far  around 

Beheld  him  in  der  sea. 

For  a  moment  nod  a  voice  vas  heard, 
Bud  dot  mule  he  vinked  his  eye, 

As  dhough  to  ask,  to  him  occurred, 
"How  vas  dot  for  highf 


THE  NEW  SCHOOL  READER 

ANONYMOUS 

I  will  now  give  you  a  selection  from  my  New  School  Reader. 
It  is  built  upon  the  lines  of  the  school-books  in  use  in  the  years 
preeedmg  our  early  childhood.  It  is  one  of  the  selections  that 
unfortunate  boys  would  render  in  an  heroic  attitude,  and  in  stilted, 
unnatural  tones: 

"The  October  sun  was  shining  down  upon  an  avenue  of  trees, 
and  gilding  with  its  golden  splendor  the  chromatic  nose  of  a  soli- 
tary horseman,  who  reigned  up  his  steed  at  the  sight  of  a  small 
boy  with  a  school-book  on  his  shoulder.  'Where  do  you  live,  my 
fine  fellow  f  said  the  stranger,  in  low,  pleasing  tones.  'In  yonder 
cottage,  near  the  glen;  my  widowed  mother  and  her  thirteen  chil- 


166  HimOROUS    HITS 

(Iren  dwell  with  me/  replied  the  boy,  in  a  rich,  mellow  voice. 
'And  is  your  father  dead?'  asked  the  stranger  with  a  rising 
inflection.  'Extremely  so,'  murmured  the  lad,  'and  that  is  why 
my  mother  is  a  widow.'  'And  how  does  yom:  mother  gain  a  live- 
lihood?' asked  the  horseman,  his  voice  dropping  to  a  gentle  whis- 
per. 'I  supi)ort  the  family,'  proudly  rei)lied  George.  'You  sup- 
port the  family?  Why,  what  can  such  a  little  fellow  as  you  dof 
'I  dig  wells  during  the  day,  and  help  my  mother  at  night.  I  have 
a  good  education  and  am  able  to  dig  wells  almost  as  well  as  a 
man.'  'But  you  must  have  to  work  very  hard,'  said  the  stranger, 
wiping  a  tear  from  his  eyebrow.  'Indeed  I  do,  sir,  and  since  my 
little  sister  Ann  got  married,  and  brought  her  husband  home  to 
live  with  us,  I  have  to  work  with  more  assiduity  than  ever.  I  am 
enabled  to  barely  mamtain  our  family  in  a  precarious  manner; 
but,  oh,  sir,  should  my  other  sisters  marry,  I  fear  that  some  of 
my  brothers-in-law  would  have  to  suffer.'  'My  boy,'  asked  the 
solitaiy  horseman,  looking  at  the  youth  proudly,  'what  would  you 
say  if  I  told  you  your  father  was  not  dead?'  'Sir,'  replied  the  boy 
respectfully,  'I  am  too  polite  to  tell  j'ou  what  I  would  say, — 
besides  you  are  much  larger  than  I  am.'  'But,  my  brave  lad,' 
said  the  man  in  low,  musical  tones,  'do  you  not  recognize  your 
parent  on  your  father's  side? — do  you  not  know  me,  Georgie?  0 
George !'  'I  must  say,'  replied  George,  'that  you  have  the  advan- 
tage of  me.  While  I  may  have  met  you  before,  I  can  not  at  this 
moment  place  you,  sir!'  At  this  the  stranger  opened  his  valise 
and  took  therefrom  a  large-sized  strawberry  mark,  which  he  placed 
on  his  right  arm.  Immediately  the  boy  recognized  him  as  his 
long-lost  parent,  and  he,  drawing  the  lad  to  his  bosom,  ejaculated, 
'0  my  son,  my  son!'  'But  how  did  you  escape,  father?'  said  the 
boy  througli  his  tears,  in  a  voice  broken  by  emotion.  'We  were 
far  away  at  sea,'  said  the  heartbroken  man.  'The  winds  howled 
and  the  waves  threatened  to  engulf  our  frail  bark.  When  every- 
body was  lost,  the  rest  of  the  crew  turned  and  sprang  into  the 
foaming  billows  and  swam  several  miles.  At  last  I  felt  my  feet 
touch  something  hard, — it  was  Jersey  City !'  " 


HUMOROUS  HITS  167 


THE  POOR  WAS  MAD 
A  FAIRY  SHTORY  FOR  LITTLE  CHILDHER 

BY   CHARLES    BATTELL    LOOMIS 

Wance  upon  a  toime  the  poor  was  virry  poor  indade,  an'  so 
they  wint  to  a  rich  leddy  that  was  that  rich  she  had  goold  finger- 
nails, an'  was  that  beautiful  that  it'u'd  mek  you  dopey  to  luke  at 
her.  An'  the  poor  aslit  her  would  she  give  thim  the  parin's  of 
her  goold  finger-nails  fer  to  sell.  An'  she  said  she  would  that,  an' 
that  ivery  Chuesdeh  she  did  be  afther  a-parin'  her  nails.  So  of 
a  Chuesdeh  the  poor  kem  an'  they  tuke  the  gold  parin's  to  a 
jewel-eiy  man,  an'  he  gev  thim  good  money  fer  thim.  Wasn't 
she  the  koind  leddy,  childher?  "Well,  wan  day  she  forgot  to  pare 
her  nails,  an'  so  they  had  nothin'  to  sell.  An'  the  poor  was  mad, 
an'  they  wint  an'  kilt  the  leddy  intoirely.  An'  when  she  was 
kilt,  sorra  bit  would  the  nails  grow  upon  her,  an'  they  saw  they 
was  silly  to  kill  her.  So  they  wint  out  to  sairch  fer  a  leddy  wid 
silver  finger-nails.  An'  they  found  her,  an'  she  was  that  beautiful 
that  her  face  was  all  the  colors  of  the  rainbow  an'  two  more 
besides.  An'  the  poor  asht  her  would  she  give  thim  the  parin's 
of  her  finger-nails  fer  to  sell.  An'  she  said  that  she  would  that, 
an'  that  eveiy  Chuesdeh  she  did  be  afther  a-parin'  her  nails.  So 
of  a  Chuesdeh  the  poor  kem  an'  they  tuk  the  silver  parin's  to  the 
jewel-ery  man,  an'  he  giv  thim  pretty  good  money  fer  thim,  but 
not  nair  as  good  as  fer  the  goold.  But  he  was  the  cute  jewel-ery 
man,  wasn't  he,  chUdher?  Well,  wan  day  she  forgot  to  pare  her 
nails  an'  so  they  had  nothin'  to  sell.  An'  the  poor  was  mad,  an' 
they  wint  an'  kilt  the  leddy  intoirely.  An'  when  she  was  kilt, 
sorra  bit  would  the  nails  grow  upon  her,  an'  they  saw  they  was 
silly  to  kill  her.  So  they  wint  out  to  sairch  for  a  leddy  with  tin 
finger-nails.  An'  they  found  her,  and  she  was  that  beautiful  that 
she  would  mek  you  ristless.  An'  the  poor  asht  her  would  she  give 
thim  the  parin's  of  her  tin  finger-nails  fer  to  sell.  An'  she  said 
she  would  that^  an'  that  ivery  Chuesdeh  she  did  be  afther  a-parm' 


168  HUMOROUS  HITS 

her  nails.  So  of  a  Chuesdeli  the  poor  kem.  An'  did  they  get  the 
tin  nails,  childher?  Sure,  that's  where  y  are  out.  They  did  not, 
fer  the  leddy  had  lost  a  finger  in  a  mowin'-machine,  an'  she  didn't 
have  tin  finger-nails  at  arl,  at  arl — only  noine. 


LIDES  TO  BARY  JADE 

ANONYMOUS 

The  bood  is  beabig  brighdly  love, 

The  sdars  are  shidig,  too; 
While  I  ab  gazing  dreabily 

Add  thigkig,  love,  of  you ; 
You  caddot,  oh,  you  caddot  kdow. 

By  darlig,  how  I  biss  you. — 
(Oh,  whadt  a  fearful  cold  I've  got— 

Ck-tish-n !    Ck-ck-*js/t-u !  ^ 

I'b  sittig  id  the  arbor,  love 

Where  you  sat  by  by  side, 
Whed  od  that  oalb,  Autubdal  dight 

You  said  you'd  be  by  bride. 
Oh,  for  wud  bobedt  to  caress 

Add  tederly  to  kiss  you; 
Budt  do!  we're  beddy  biles  apart — 

{B.o-rash-0 !     Ck-ck-f  ?s/j-u ! ) 

This  eharbig  evedig  brigs  to  bide 

The  tibe  whed  first  we  bet; 
It  seebs  budt  odly  yesterday, 

I  thigk  I  see  you  yet. 
Oh,  tell  be,  ab  I  sdill  your  owd? 

By  hopes,  oh,  do  dot  dash  theb! 
(Codfoud  by  cold,  'tis  gettig  worse— 

Ck-(/s7i-u !     Ck-ck-f/tras/i-eb !) 


HUMOROUS    HITS  169 

Good-by,  by  darlig  Bary  Jade 

The  bid-dight  hour  is  dear, 
Add  it  is  hardly  wise  by  love 

For  be  to  ligger  here ! 
The  heavy  dews  are  fallig  fast; 

A  fod  good-dight  I  wish  you; 
(Ho-rash-o  ! — there  it  is  agaid — 

Ck-tish-nl      Ck-ck-thrash-ehV 


"CHARLIE   MUST   NOT   RING  TO-NIGHT" 
Parody  on  "Curfew  Must  not  Ring  To-night" 

ANOKYMOUS 

Slowly  England's  sun  was  setting  o'er  a  mansion  old  and  grey; 

Filling  all  the  land  with  glory,  in  the  usual  kind  of  way. 

And  its  bright  rays  tinged  the  foreheads  of  a  man  and  maiden 
fair: 

He  with  powdered  head  and  whiskers,  she  with  locks  of — some- 
one's hair. 

She  was  clutching  at  it  wildly,  as,  with  lips  all  cold  and  white, 

She  was  saying,  "Listen,  Thomas, — Charlie  must  not  ring  to- 
night !" 

"Thomas,"  Bessie's  white  lips  murmur'd,  as  she  feverishly  laid 

hold 
Of  the  buttons  of  his  liv'ry — lobster-red  with  spots  of  gold — 
"Freddie  Smith  will  call  this  evening ;  he'll  be  ringing  by  and  by ; 
Charlie  does  not  know  about  him ;  if  they  met  here  I  should  die ! 
Tell  him  I  am  out,  dear  Thomas;  gone  to  call  on  Mrs.  Blight; 
Tell  him  any  lie  you  like  but — Charlie  must  not  ring  co-night." 

"Bessie,"  calmly  said  the  flunkey — ev'ry  word  was  like  a  dart 

Barbed  with  poison,  entering  in  that  damsel's  heart — 

*'For  the  last  three  weeks  that  pusson — w'ieh  'is  name  are  Charlie 

Power — 
Hev'ry  hevenink's  called  to  see  you,  jest  about  the  dinner-hour. 
'E'  as  never  failed  to  tip  me — w'ieh  is  only  just  and  right — 
So  I  still  must  do  my  duty,  should  that  pusson  ring  to-night!" 


170  HUMOROUS    HITS 

She  with  quick  steps  bounded  upward,  till  she  reached  the  chain- 

ber-dooi-, 
Seized  her  purse,  and  quick  returning,   threw  it  wildly  on  the 

floor. 
"Take  it,  Thomas,"  cried  the  maiden,  with  her  eyes  and  cheeks 

aglow, 
"Take  it  all  and  welcome — what  there  is  I  do  not  know — 
But  'tis  yours,  ay,  ev'ry  farthing;  gold  and  precious  silver  bright. 
Only,  take  good  care,  dear  Thomas,  Charlie  must  not  ring  to- 
'niirht!"^ 


^o"- 


She  had  fled  to  dress  for  Freddie;  Thomas  seeks  the  front  door- 
bell. 

He  will  muffle  up  the  clapper,  in  a  way  he  knows  full  well. 

See !    The  bell  is  being  shaken ;  'tis  the  fateful  moment  now ! 

Thomas  hastes  to  "do  his  dooty,"  with  a  firm,  determined  brow. 

Shall  he  let  it  ring?  No,  never;  he  has  touched  the  guerdon 
bright, 

So  he  grasps  the  clapper,  whisp'ring,  "Charlie  shall  not  ring  to- 
night!" 

It  was  o'er;  the  youth  ceased  pulling,  and  the  maiden  breathed 

once  more. 
But,  alas!  that  fickle  maiden  wept  as  maid  ne'er  wept  before 
When  she  learn'd  that  he  who'd  called  there,  promptly  at  the 

dinner-hour. 
Was  the  long-expected  Freddie,  not  the  hated  Charlie  Power. 
While  the  tried  and  trusted  Thomas,  knowing  not  her  evil  plight, 
Open'd  wide  the  door  for  Charlie  when  that  "pussou"  called 

that  night ! 


A  SHORT  ENCORE 


Man  wants  but  little  here  below, 
He's  not  so  hard  to  please; 

But  woman  (bless  her  little  heart) 
Wants  everything  she  sees! 


HUMOROUS    HITS  171 

MY  DOUBLE,  AND  HOW  HE  UNDID  ME 

BY    EDWARD    EVERETT    HALE 

I  am,  or  rather,  was  a  minister,  and  was  settled  in  an  active, 
wide-awake  town  with  a  bright  parish  and  a  charming  young 
wife.  At  first  it  was  all  delightful,  but  as  my  duties  increased 
I  found  myself  leading  a  double  life — one  for  my  parish,  whom 
I  loved,  and  the  other  for  a  vague  public,  for  whom  I  did  not 
care  two  straws.  It  was  then  that  on  my  wife's  suggestion  I 
looked  for  a  double — some  one  who  would  pass  for  me  and  fill 
the  many  engagements  I  wanted  to  shirk.  I  found  him.  When 
he  was  discovered  his  name  was  Dennis  Shea,  and  he  was  not 
shaved,  had  no  spectacles,  and  his  style  of  dress  was  not  at  all 
like  mine;  but  these  difficulties  were  soon  surmounted,  for,  by 
application  to  the  Judge  of  Probate,  his  name  was  soon  changed 
to  Frederick  Ingham — my  name.  As  for  appearance,  he  was  so 
much  like  me  that  by  the  united  efforts  of  Polly  and  myself  and 
a  tailor  he  was  made  to  look  the  exact  image  of  me.  Then  in 
four  successive  afternoons  I  taught  him  four  speeches,  which 
were  to  be  his  stock  in  trade : 

No.  1 — "Very  well,  thank  you;  and  you?"  (This  for  an 
answer  to  casual  salutations.) 

No.  2 — "I  am  very  glad  you  liked  it."  (This  in  response  to 
a  compliment  on  a  sermon.) 

No.  3 — "There  has  been  so  much  said,  and  on  the  whole  so 
well  said,  that  I  will  not  occupy  the  time."  (This  for  public 
meetings  when  called  to  speak.) 

No.  4 — "I  agree  in  general  with  my  friend  on  the  other  side 
of  the  room."    (This  when  asked  for  an  opinion  of  his  own.) 

Thus  equipped,  my  double  attended  a  number  of  conventions 
and  meetuigs  which  I  was  too  busy  to  notice  and  was  veiy  success- 
ful. He  gained  a  good  reputation  for  me,  and  people  began  to 
say  I  was  less  exclusive  than  I  used  to  be,  and  that  I  was  more 
punctual,  less  talkative,  etc.  His  success  was  so  great  that  one 
evening  I  risked  him  at  a  reception.  I  could  ill  afford  the  time 
to  go,  and  so  I  sent  him  with  Polly,  who  kept  her  eye  on  him, 
and  afterward  told  me  about  it.    He  had  to  take  a,  veiy  talkative 


172  HUMOEOUS    HITS 

ladj' — Mrs.  Jeffries — down  to  supper,  and  at  sight  of  the  eatables 
he  became  a  little  excited,  and  attempted  one  of  his  speeches  to 
the  lad}'.  He  tried  the  shortest  one  in  his  most  gallant  manner: 
"Very  well,  thank  you;  and  you?"  Polly,  who  stood  near  his 
chair,  was  much  frightened,  as  this  speech  had  no  connection 
with  anything  that  had  been  said,  but  Mrs.  Jeffries  was  so  much 
engrossed  with  her  own  talking  that  she  noticed  nothing.  She 
rattled  on  so  busily  that  Dennis  was  not  obliged  to  say  anything 
more  until  the  eating  was  over,  when  he  said,  to  fill  up  a  pause: 
"There  has  been  so  much  said,  and  on  the  whole  so  well  said, 
that  I  will  not  occupy  the  time."  This  again  frightened  P0II3', 
but  she  managed  to  get  him  away  before  he  had  done  anything 
serious. 

After  this  my  double  relieved  me  in  so  many  ways  that  I  grew 
quite  light-hearted.  That  happy  year  I  began  to  know  my  wife 
by  sight.  We  saw  each  other  sometimes,  and  how  delightful  it 
was!  But  all  this  could  not  last;  and  at  length  poor  Dennis, 
my  double,  undid  me ! 

There  was  some  ridiculous  new  movement  on  foot  to  organize 
some  kind  of  a  society,  and  there  was  to  be  a  public  meeting. 
Of  course  I  was  asked  to  attend  and  to  speak.  After  much  urging 
I  consented  to  go  and  sit  on  the  platform,  upon  condition  that 
I  would  not  be  called  upon  to  make  a  speech.  This  was  agi'eed 
upon,  and  I  went — that  is,  Dennis  went,  having  been  told  to  say 
notliing  on  any  subject.  He  sat  resplendent  on  the  platfoi'm, 
and  kept  his  peace  during  the  prpliminary  exercises,  which  were 
rather  dry.  Governor  Blake  called  the  meeting  to  order,  but 
as  he  really  did  not  know  what  the  object  of  the  gathering  was, 
he  said  that  there  were  other  gentlemen  present  who  could  enter- 
tain them  better  than  he.  Then  there  followed  an  awkward 
scene,  for  nobody  wanted  to  speak,  and  every  one  that  was 
called  upon  was  either  absent  or  unjn-epared;  and  finally  a 
wretched  boy  in  the  gallery  called  out,  "Ingham !  Ingham !"  The 
governor  thought  I  would  respond,  and  as  nothing  had  been  said 
so  far,  he  ventured  to  ask  me,  saying:  "Our  friend,  Mr.  Ingham, 
is  always  prepared,  and  tho  we  had  not  relied  upon  him,  he 
will  say  a  word  perhaps."  Applause  followed,  which  turned 
Dennis'  head.     He  rose  and  tried  speech  No.  3:  "There  has  been 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  173 

so  much  said,  and  on  the  whole  so  well  said,  that  I  will  not  longer 
occupy  the  time!" 

Then  he  sat  down,  looking  for  his  hat — for  things  seemed 
squally.  But  the  people  cried,  "Go  on!  Go  on!"  and  some  ap- 
plauded. Dennis  still  confused,  but  flattered  by  the  applause, 
rose  again,  and  this  time  tried  No.  2:  "I  am  very  glad  you  like 
it."  Which,  alas!  should  only  be  said  when  complimented  on  a 
sermon.  My  best  friends  stared,  and  people  -who  didn't  know  me 
yelled  with  delight.  A  boy  in  the  gallery  cried  out:  "It's  all 
a  humbug!"  just  as  Dennis,  waving  his  hand,  commanded  silence, 
and  tried  No.  4 :  "I  agree  in  general  with  my  friend  on  the  other 
side  of  the  room."  The  poor  governor,  doubting  his  senses, 
crossed  to  stop  him,  but  too  late.  The  same  gallery  boy  shouted : 
"How's  your  mother  f"  And  Dennis,  completely  lost,  tried  as 
his  last  shot  No.  1:  "Veiy  well,  thank  you;  and  you?"  The 
audience  rose  in  a  whirl  of  excitement.  Some  other  impertinence 
from  the  gallery  was  aimed  at  Dennis;  he  broke  all  restraint  and 
to  finish  undoing  me,  he  called  out:  "Any  wan  o'  ye  blatherin' 
rascals  that  wants  to  fight,  can  come  down  an'  I'll  take  any  five 
o'  yez,  single-handed;  ye're  all  dogs  and  cowards!  Sure  an' 
I've  said  all  his  riverance  an'  the  mistress  bade  me  say !" 

That  was  all;  my  double  had  undone  me. 

Eeprinted  by  permission  of  Little,  Brown  &  Co.,  Boston,  Mass. 


ROMANCE   OF  A  HAMMOCK 

ANONYMOUS 

Shady    tree — babbling   brook. 
Girl  in  hammock — reading  book. 

Golden  curls — tiny  feet, 

Girl  in  hammock — looks  so   sweet. 

Man  rides  past — big  mustache, 

Girl  in  hammock — makes   a   "mash." 


174  HUMOROUS    HITS 

"Mash"  is  mutual — day  is  set, 
Man  and  maiden — married  get. 

Married  now  a  year  and  a  day, 
Keeping  Louse  in  Avenue  A. 

Red-hot  stove — beefsteak  frying, 
Girl  got  married — cooking  trying. 

Cheeks  all  burning — eyes  look  red, 
Girl   got   married — almost   dead. 

Biscuit  burnt  up — beefsteak  charry. 
Girl  got  married — awful  sorry. 

Man  comes  home — tears  mustache, 
Mad  as  blazes — got  no  cash. 

Thinks  of  hammock — in  the  lane; 
Wishes  maiden — back  again. 

Maiden  also — thinks  of  swing, 

And  wants  to  go  back,  too,  poor  thing  I 

Hour  of  midnight — baby  squawking; 
Man  in  bare  feet — bravely  walking; 

The  baby  yells — now  the  other 
Twin,  he  strikes  up — like  his  brother. 

Paregoric — by  the  bottle 
Poured  into — the  baby's  throttle. 

Naughty  tack — points  in  ah-. 
Waiting  some  one's — foot  to  tear. 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  175 

Man  in  bare  feet — see  him  there! 
0  my  gracious !— hear  him  swear  1 

Raving  crazy — gets  his  gun 

Blows  his  head  off — dead  and  gone. 

Pretty  widow — with  a  book 
In  the  hammock — by  the  brook. 

Man  rides  past — big  mustache; 
Keeps  on  riding — nary  "mash." 


FINNIGIN  TO  FLANNIGAN 

BY  S.  W.  GILLINAN 

Superintmdent  wuz  Flannigan ; 

Boss  av  the  siction  wuz  Finnigin; 

Whiniver  the  kyars  got  offen  the  thrack, 

An'  muddled  up  things  t'   th'   divil  an'  back, 

Finnigin  writ  it  to  Flannigan, 

Afther  the  wrick  wuz  all  on  ag'in; 

That  is,  this  Finnigin 

Repoorted  to  Flannigan. 

Whin  Finnigin  furst  writ  to  Flannigan, 

He  writed  tin  pages — did  Fuanigin, 

An'  he  tould  jist  how  the  smash  occurred; 

Full  minny  a  tajus,  blunderin'  wurrd 

Did  Finnigin  write  to  Flannigan 

Afther  the  cars  had  gone  on  ag'in. 

That  wuz  how  Finnigin 

Repoorted  to  Flannigan. 


176  HUMOROUS    HITS 

Now  Flannigan  knowed  more  than  Finnigin — 
He'd  more  idjucation,  had  Flannigan; 
An'  it  wore'm  clane  an'  complately  out 
To  tell  what  Finnigin  wi-it  about 
In  his  writin'  to  Muster  Flannigan. 
So  he  writed  back  to  Finnigin : 

''Don't  do  sich  a  sin  ag'in ; 

Make  'em  brief,  Fmnigin !" 

Whin  Finnigin  got  this  from  Flannigan, 
He  blushed  rosy  rid,  did  Finnigin; 
An'  he  said:  "I'll  gamble,  a  whole  month's  pa-ay 
That  it  will  be  minny  an'  minny  a  da-ay 
Befoore  Sup'rmtindint — that's  Flannigan — 
Gits  a  whack  at  this  very  same  sin  ag'in. 
From  Finnigin  to  Flannigan 
Repoorts  won't  be  long  ag'in." 


Wan  da-ay,  on  the  siction  av  Finnigin, 

On  the  road  sup'rintinded  by  Flannigan, 

A  rail  gave  way  on  a  bit  av  a  cun^e, 

An'  some  kyars  went  off  as  they  made  the  swerve. 

"There's  nobody  hurted,"  sez  Finnigin, 

''But  repoorts  must  be  made  to  Flannigan." 

An'  he  winked  at  McCorrigan, 

As  married  a  Finnigin. 

He  wuz  shantyin'  lliin,  wuz  Finnigin, 

As  minny  a  railroader's  been  ag'in. 

An'  the  shmoky  ol'  lamp  wuz  burnin'  bright 

In  Finnigin's  shanty  all  that  night — 

Bilin'  down  his  rejioort,  was  Finnigin ! 

An'  he  writed  this  here :  "Muster  Flannigan : 

Off  ag'in,  on  ag'in, 

Gone  ag'in — Finnigin," 

From  Tjifty  by  courtesy  of  the  publishers. 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  177 

AN  INTRODUCTION 

BY    MARK    TWAIN 

'^Ladies — and — gentlemen: — 'By — the  request  of  the — Chair- 
man of  the — -Com-mit-tee — I  beg  leave  to — introduce — to  you — 
the  reader  of  the  evening — a  gentleman  whose  great  learning — 
whose  historical  ac-curaey — whose  devotion — to  science — and — 
and — whose  veneration  for  the  truth — are  only  equaled  by  his 
high  moral  character — and — his — majestic  presence.  I  allude — 
in  these  vague  general  terms — to  my-self.  I — am  a  little  opposed 
to  the  custom  of  ceremoniously  introducing  a  reader  to  the  audi- 
ence, because  it  seems — unnecessary — where  the  man  has  been 
properly  advertised!  But  as — it  is — the  custom — I  prefer  to 
make  it  mj-self — in  my  own  case — and  then  I  can  rely  on  getting 
in — all  the  facts !  I  never  had  but  one  introduction — that  seemed 
to  me  just  the  thing — and  the  gentleman  was  not  acquainted  with 
me,  and  there  was  no  nonsense.  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  shall 
waste  no  time  in  this  introduction.  I  know  of  only  two  facts 
about  this  man:  first,  he — has  never  been  in  the  state  prison; 
and  second,  I  can't — imagine  why." 

THE  HARP  OF  A  THOUSAND  STRINGS 
A  Hard-shell  Baptist  Sermon 

BY   JOSHUA  S.   MORRIS 

(This  characteristic  effusion  first  appeared  in  a  New  Orleans 
paper.  The  sermon  is  supposed  to  have  been  preached  at  a 
village  on  the  bank  of  the  Mississippi  River,  whither  the  volunteer 
parson  had  brought  his  flatboat  for  the  purpose  of  trade.) 

I  maj'  say  to  you,  my  brethring,  that  I  am  not  an  edicated 
man,  an'  I  am  not  one  of  them  as  beleeves  that  edication  is 
necessai-y  for  a  Gospel  minister,  for  I  beleeve  the  Lord  edicates 
his  preachers  jest  as  He  wants  'em  to  be  edicated ;  an'  altho  I  say 
it  that  oughtn't  to  say  it,  yet  in  the  State  of  Lidianny,  whar  I 
live,  thar's  no  man  as  gits  bigger  congregations  nor  what  I  gits. 


178  HUMOEOUS   HITS 

Thar  may  be  some  here  to-day,  my  brethring,  as  don't  know 
what  persuasion  I  am  uv.  Well,  I  must  say  to  yu,  my  brethring, 
that  I'm  a  Hard-shell  Baptist.  Thar's  some  folks  as  don't  like 
the  Hard-shell  Baj^tists,  but  I'd  rather  have  a  hard  shell  as  no 
shell  at  all.  You  see  me  here  to-day,  my  brethring,  drest  up  in 
fine  clothes;  you  mout  think  I  was  proud,  but  I  am  not  proud, 
my  brethring;  and  altho  I've  been  a  preacher  of  the  Gospel  for 
twenty  years,  an'  altho  I'm  capting  of  the  flatboat  that  lies  at 
your  landing,  I'm  not  proud,  my  bi'ethring. 

I  am  not  gwine  to  tell  edzactly  whar  my  tex  may  be  found; 
suffice  to  say,  it's  m  the  leds  of  the  Bible,  and  you'll  find  it 
somewhar  between  the  fust  clia]:)ter  of  the  book  of  Generations 
and  the  last  chaj^ter  of  the  book  of  Revolutions;  and  ef  you'll  go 
and  sarch  the  Scriptures,  you'll  not  only  find  my  tex  thar,  but 
a  great  many  other  texes  as  will  do  you  good  to  read;  and  my 
tex,  when  you  shall  find  it,  you  shall  find  it  to  read  thus:  "And 
he  played  on  a  harp  uv  a  thousand  strings,  sperits  uv  jest  men 
made  perfeek." 

My  tex,  my  brethring,  leads  me  to  speak  of  sperits.  Now, 
thar's  a  great  many  kinds  of  sperits  in  the  world.  In  the  fust 
place,  thar's  the  sperits  as  some  folks  call  ghosts;  and  thar's 
the  sperits  of  turpentine;  and  thar's  the  sperits  as  some  folks 
call  liquor,  an'  I've  got  as  good  an  artikel  of  them  kind  of  sperits 
on  my  flatboat  as  ever  was  fotch  down  the  Mississippi  River. 
But  thar's  a  great  many  other  kinds  of  sperits,  for  the  tex  says, 
"He  played  on  a  harp  uv  a  t-h-o-u-s-and  strings,  sperits  uv  jest 
men  made  perfeek." 

But  I  tell  you  the  kind  uv  sperits  as  is  meant  in  the  tex  is 
FIRE,  That's  the  kind  uv  sperits  as  is  meant  in  the  tex,  my 
brethring.  Now,  thar's  a  great  many  kinds  uv  fire  in  the  world. 
In  the  fust  place,  there's  the  common  sort  of  fire  you  light  your 
cigars  or  pipe  with;  and  then  thar's  foxfire  and  camphire,  fire 
before  you're  ready,  and  fire  and  fall  back,  and  many  other  kinds 
of  fire — for  the  tex  say,  "He  played  on  a  harp  uv  a  thouaand 
strings,  sperits  uv  jest  men  made  perfeek." 

But  I'll  tell  you  the  kind  of  fire  as  is  meant  in  the  tex,  my 
brethring:  its  HELL-FIRE!  An'  that's  the  kind  uv  fire  as 
a  great  many  uv  you'll  come  to,  ef  you  don't  do  better  nor  what 


HUMOROUS    HITS  179 

you  have  been  doin' — for  "He  played  on  a  harp  uv  a  thousand 
strings,  sperits  uv  jest  men  made  perfeek." 

Now,  the  different  sorts  of  fire  in  the  world  may  be  likened 
luito  the  different  persuasions  of  Christians  in  the  world.  In 
the  fust  place,  we  have  the  Piseapalions,  an'  they  are  a  high- 
sailin'  and  highfalutin'  set;  and  they  may  be  likened  unto  a 
turkey  buzzard  that  flies  up  in  the  air,  and  he  goes  up,  and  ui:>, 
and  up,  till  he  looks  no  bigger  than  your  finger-nail,  and  the 
fust  thing  you  know,  he  cums  down,  and  down,  and  down,  and 
is  a-fillin'  himself  on  the  carkiss  of  a  dead  boss  by  the  side  of  the 
road— and  "He  played  on  a  harp  uv  a  thousand  strings,  sperits  uv 
jest  men  made  perfeek." 

And  then  thar's  the  Methodis,  and  they  may  be  likened  unto 
the  squirril  runnin'  up  into  a  tree,  for  the  Methodis  beleeves  in 
gwine  on  from  one  degree  of  grace  to  another,  and  finally  on  to 
perfection;  and  the  squirril  goes  up  and  up,  and  up  and  up,  and 
he  jmnps  from  limb  to  limb,  and  branch  to  branch,  and  the  fust 
thing  you  know  he  falls,  and  down  he  cums  kerfiumix ;  and  that's 
like  the  Methodis,  for  they  is  allers  fallin'  from  grace,  ah! — 
and  "He  played  on  a  harp  uv  a  thousand  strings,  sperits  uv  jest 
men  made  perfeek." 

And  then,  my  brethring,  thar's  the  Baptists,  ah!  and  they 
have  been  likened  unto  a  'possum  on  a  'simmon  tree,  and  thunders 
may  roll  and  the  earth  may  quake,  but  that  'possum  clmgs  thar 
still,  sh!  and  you  may  shake  one  foot  loose,  and  the  other's  thar, 
and  you  make  shake  all  feet  loose,  and  he  laps  his  tail  around 
the  limb,  and  clings,  and  he  clings  furever — for  "He  played  on 
a  harp  uv  a  thousand  strmgs,  sperits  uv  jest  men  made  perfeek." 


THE  DIFFICULTY  OF  RIMING 

ANONYMOUS 

We  parted  by  the  gate  in  June, 

That  soft  and  balmy  month. 
Beneath  the  sweetly  beaming  moon, 

And  (wonth-hunth-sunth-biuith — I  can't 
find  a  rime  to  month), 

Reprinted  from  the  "  Four-masted  Catboat,"  by  permission  of  the  author  and  The 
Century  Company,    Copyright,  1899. 


180  HUMOROUS  HITS 

Years  were  to  pass  ere  we  should  meet. 

A  wide  and  yawning  gulf 
Divides  me  from  my  love  so  sweet, 

While  (ulf-sulf-dulf-mulf — stuck  again;  I 
can't  get  any  rime  to  gulf.    I'm  in  a  gulf  myself). 


Oh,  how  1  dreaded  in  my  soul 

To  i^art  from  my  sweet  nymph, 
While  years  should  their  long  seasons  roll 
Before  ( hymph-dymph-symph — I  guess  I'll 
have  to  let  it  go  at  that). 

Beneath  my  fortune's  stern  decree 

My  lonely  spirits  sunk, 
For  I  a  weary  soul  should  be, 

And  a  (hunk-dunk-runk-sk — that  will 
never  do  in  the  world). 


She  buried  her  dear  lovely  face 

Within  her  azure  scarf. 
She  knew  I'd  take  the  wretchedness, 

As  well  as  (parf-darf-harf-and-harf — 
that  won't  answer  either). 


Oh,  I  had  loved  her  many  years. 

I  loved  her  for  herself; 
I  loved  her  for  her  tender  tears, 

And  also  for  her  (welf-nelf -self -pelf — no, 
no;  not  for  her  pelf). 

I  took  between  my  hands  her  head. 

How  sweet  her  lips  did  pouch ! 
I  kissed  her  lovingly  and  said — 

(Bouch-mouch-louch-ouch — not  a  bit  of  it 
did  I  say  ouch!). 


HUMOROUS  HITS  181 

I  sorrowfully  wrung  lier  hand, 

My  tears  they  did  escape, 
My  sori'ow  I  could  not  command. 

And  I  was  but  a  (sape-dape-f ape-ape; 
well,  perhaps  I  did  feel  like  an  ape). 

I  gave  to  her  a  fond  adieu, 

Sweet  pupil  of  love's  school, 
I  told  her  I  would  e'er  be  true, 

And  always  be  a  (dool-sool-mool-fool;  since 
I  come  to  think  of  it,  I  was  a  fool,  for  she  fell  in  love 
with  another  fellow  before  I  was  gone  a  month). 


SO  WAS  I 

BY   JOSEPH    BERT    SMILET 

My  name  is  Tommy  an'  I  hates 
That  feller  of  my  sister  Kate's. 
He's  bigger'n  I  am  an'  you  see 
He's  sorter  lookin'  down  on  me, 
An'  I  resents  it  with  a  vim ; 
I  think  I'm  just  as  good  as  him. 
He's  older,  an'  he's  mighty  fly 
But  he's  a  kid, — an'  so  am  I. 

One  time  he  came, — down  by  the  gate, 
I  guess  it  must  been  awful  late, — 
An'  Katie,  she  was  there,  an'  they 
Was  feelin'  very  nice  and  gay, 
An'  he  was  talkin'  all  the  while. 
About  her  sweet  an'  lovin'  smile. 
An'  everythin'  was  nice  as  pie, 
An'  they  was  there, — an'  so  was  I. 


182  HUMOROUS    HITS 

They  didn't  see  me,  'cause  I  slid 
Down  underneath  a  bush,  an'  hid, 
An'  he  was  sayin'  that  liis  love 
Was  greater'n  all  the  stars  above 
Up  in  the  glorious  heavens  placed; 
An'  then  his  arm  got  round  her  waist, 
An'  clouds  were  floatin'  in  the  sky, 
An'  they  was  there, — an'  so  was  L 

I  didn't  hear  just  all  they  said, 
But  by  an'  by  my  sister's  head 
Was  droopin'  on  his  shoulder,  an' 
I  seen  him  holdin'  Katie's  hand. 
An'  then  he  hugged  her  closer,  some, 
An'  then  I  beared  a  kiss — yum,  yum! 
An'  Katie  blushed  an'  drew  a  sigh, 
An'  sorter  coughed, — an',  so  did  1. 

An'  then  that  feller  looked  around 
An'  seed  me  there,  down  on  the  ground, 
An' — was  he  mad? — well,  betcher  boots 
I  gets  right  outer  there  an'  scoots. 
An'  he  just  left  my  sister  Kate 
A-standin'  right  there  by  the  gate; 
An'  I  seen  blood  was  in  his  eye, 
An'  he  runned  fast, — an'  so  did  I. 

I  runned  the  veiy  best  I  could 
But  he  cotched  up, — I's  'fraid  he  would. 
An'  then  he  said  he'd  teach  me  how 
To  know  my  manners,  he'd  allow; 
An'  then  he  shaked  me  awful.     Oee! 
He  jest — he  frashed  the  ground  with  me. 
An'  then  he  stopt  it  by  and  by, 
'Cause  he  was  tired, — an'  so  was  I. 


HUMOROUS    HITS  133 

An'  then  he  went  back  to  the  gate 
An'  couldn't  find  my  sister  Kate, 
'Cause  she  went  to  bed,  while  he 
Was  runnin'  round  an'  thumpin'  me. 
I  got  round  in  a  shadder  dim, 
An'  made  a  face,  an'  guffed  at  him; 
An'  then  the  moon  larfed,  in  the  sky, 
'Cause  he  was  there, — an'  so  was  I. 


THE  ENCHANTED  SHIRT 

BY    JOHN     HAT 

The  king  was  sick.    His  cheek  was  red, 
And  his  eye  was  clear  and  bright; 

He  ate  and  drank  with  a  kingly  zest, 
And  peacefully  snored  at  night. 

But  he  said  he  was  sick — and  a  king  should  know; 

And  doctors  came  by  the  score; 
They  did  not  cure  him.    He  cut  off  their  heads. 

And  sent  to  the  schools  for  more. 

At  last  two  famous  doctors  came, 

And  one  was  as  poor  as  a  rat; 
He  had  passed  his  life  in  studious  toil 

And  never  found  time  to  grow  fat. 

The  other  had  never  looked  in  a  book; 

His  patients  gave  him  no  trouble; 
If  they  recovered,  they  paid  him  well, 

If  they  died,  their  heirs  paid  double. 

Together  they  looked  at  the  royal  tongue. 

As  the  king  on  his  couch  reclined; 
In  succession  they  thumped  his  august  chest. 

But  no  trace  of  disease  could  find. 


184  HUMOKOUS   HITS 

The  old  sage  said,  "You're  as  sound  as  a  nut." 
"Hang  him  up !"  roared  the  king,  in  a  gale,- 

In  a  ten-knot  gale  of  royal  rage; 
The  other  leaeh  grew  a  shade  pale; 

But  he  pensively  rubbed  his  sagacious  nose, 

And  thus  his  prescription  ran: 
"The  king  will  be  well  if  he  sleeps  one  night 

In  the  shirt  of  a  happy  man." 


Wide  o'er  the  realm  the  couriers  rode, 

And  fast  their  horses  ran. 
And  many  they  saw,  and  to  many  they  spake, 

But  they  found  no  hajjpy  man. 


They  saw  two  men  by  the  roadside  sit, 
And  both   bemoaned   their   lot; 

For  one  had  buried  his  wife,  he  said. 
And  the  other  one  had  not. 


At  last  they  came  to  a  village  gate ; 

A  beggar  lay  whistling  there; 
He  whistled  and  sang  and  laughed,  and  rolled 

On  the  grass  in  the  soft  June  air. 


The  weary  couriers  paused  and  looked 

At  the  scamp  so  blithe  and  gay, 
And  one  of  them  said,  "Heaven  save  you,  friend, 

You  seem  to  be  happy  to-day?" 

"Oh,  yes,  fair  sirs,"  the  rascal  laughed, 

And  his  voice  rang  free  and  glad; 
"An  idle  man  has  so  much  to  do 

That  he  never  has  time  to  be  sad." 


IIUMOllOUS    HITS  185 

"This  is  our  man."  the  courier  said, 

"Our  luck  has  led  us  aright. 
I  will  give  you   a   hundred   ducats,   friend, 

For  the  loan  of  your  shirt  to-night." 

The  merry  rascal  lay  back  on  the  grass 

And  laughed  till  his  face  was  black; 
"I  would  do  it,"  said  he,  and  roared  with  the  fun, 

"But  I  haven't  a  shirt  to  my  back!" 

Each  day  to  the  king  the  reports  came  in 

Of  the  luisuccessful  spies; 
And  the  sad  panorama  of  human  woes. 

Passed  daily  under  his  eyes. 

And  he  gi-ew  ashamed  of  his  useless  life,  • 

And  his  maladies  hatched  in  gloom; 
He  opened  his  windows  and  let  the  free  air 

Of  the  heavens  into  his  room. 

And  out  he  went  into  the  world  and  toiled 

In  his  own  appointed  way, 
And  the  people  blest  him,  the  land  was  glad. 

And  the  king  was  well  and  gay. 


:    DER  OAK  UND  DER  VINE 

BY    CHARLES    FOLLEN    ADAMS 

I  don'd  vas  preaching  voman's  righdts, 

Or  anydmg  like  dot, 
TJnd  I  likes  to  see  all  beoples 

Shust  goutended  mit  dheir  lot; 
But  I  vants  to  gontradict  dot  shap 

Dot  made  dis  leedle  shoke: 
"A  voman  vas  der  glinging  vine, 

Und   man,   der  shturdy   oak." 


186  HUMOROUS    HITS 

Berhaps,  somedimes,  dot  may  be  drue; 

Budt,   den   dimes  oudt   off  nine, 
I  find  me  oudt  dot  man  himself 

Vas  peen  der  glinging  vine; 
Und  ven  liees  friendts  dhey  all  vas  gone 

Und  he  vas  shust  "tead  proke," 
Dot's  vhen  der  voman  sliteps  righdt  in, 

Und  peen  der  shturdy  oak. 

Shust  go  oup  to  der  paseball  groundts 

Und  see  dhose  "shturdy  oaks" 
All  planted  roundt  ubon  der  seats — 

Shust  hear  dheir  laughs  und  shokes ! 
Dhen  see  dhose  vomens  at  der  tubs, 

Mit  glothes  oudt  on  der  lines : 
Yhich  vas  der  shturdy  oaks,  mine  frendts, 

Und  vhif'h  der  glinging  vines? 

'  Ven  sickness  in  der  householdt  comes, 

Und  veeks  und  veeks  he  shtays, 
Who  vas  id  fighdts  him  mitout  resdt, 

Dhose  veary  nighdts  und  days? 
Who  beace  und  gomfort  alvays  prings, 

Und  cools  dot  fefered  prow? 
More  like  id  vas  der  tender  vine 

Dot  oak  he  glings  to,  now. 

"Man  vants  budt  leedle  here  pelow," 

Der   boet   von    time    said; 
Dhere's  leedle  dot  man  he  don'd  vant, 

I  dink  id  means,   inshtcd; 
Und  vhen  der  years  keep  rolling  on, 

Dheir  cares  und  droubles  pringing, 
He  vants  to  pe  der  shturdy  oak, 

Und,  also,  do  der  glinging. 


HUMOROUS   HITS  J87 

Maype,  vlien  oaks  dliey  gling  some  more, 

Und  don'd  so  shturdy  peen, 
Der  gling'ing  vines  dhey  haf  some  shance 

To  lielb  run  life's  masheen. 
In  lielt  und  sickness,  slioy  und  pain, 

In  calm  or  slitormy  veddlier, 
'Tvas  beddher  dot  dhose  oaks  und  vines 

Should  alvays  gling  togedder. 
From  "Dialect  Ballads,"  copyright,  1897,  by  Harper  &  Brothers. 

THE  SHIP  OF  FAITH 

ANONYMOUS 

A  certain  colored  brother  had  been  holding  forth  to  his  little 
flock  upon  the  ever-fi'uitful  topic  of  Faith,  and  he  closed  his  ex- 
hortation about  as  follows : 

"My  bruddren,  ef  yous  g-wine  to  git  saved,  you  got  to  git  on 
board  de  Ship  ob  Faith.  I  tell  you,  my  bruddren,  dere  ain't  no 
odder  way.  Dere  ain't  no  gitten  up  de  back  stairs,  nor  goin' 
'cross  lots;  you  can't  do  dat  away,  my  bruddren,  you  got  to  git 
on  board  de  Ship  ob  Faith,  Once  'pon  a  time  dere  was  a  lot  ob 
colored  people,  an'  dey  was  all  gwine  to  de  j^romised  land.  Well, 
dey  knowed  dere  w'an't  no  odder  way  for  'em  to  do  but  to  git 
on  board  de  Ship  ob  Faith.  So  dey  all  went  down  an'  got  on 
board,  de  ole  granfaders,  an'  de  ole  granmudders,  an'  de  picka- 
ninnies, an'  all  de  res'  of  'em.  Dey  all  got  on  board  'ceptin'  one 
mons'us  big  feller,  he  said  he's  gwine  to  swim,  he  was.  'Wy !'  dey 
said,  'you  can't  swim  so  fur  like  dat.  It  am  a  powerful  long  way 
to  de  promised  land!'  He  said:  'I  kin  swim  anywhur,  I  kin.  I 
git  board  no  boat,  no,  'deed!'  Well,  my  bruddren,  all  dey  could 
say  to  dat  poor  disluded  man  dey  couldn't  git  him  on  board  de 
Ship  of  Faith,  so  dey  started  off.  De  day  was  fair,  de  win' 
right;  de  sun  shinin'  and  ev'ryt'ing  b'utiful,  an'  dis  big  feller  he 
pull  off  his  close  and  plunge  in  de  water.  Well,  he  war  a  powerful 
swimmer,  dat  man,  'deed  he  war;  he  war  dat  powerful  he  kep' 
right  'long  side  de  boat  all  de  time;  he  kep'  a  hoUerin'  out  to  de 
people  on  de  boat,  sayin' :  'What  you  doin'  dere,  you  folks,  brilin' 
away  in  de  sun ;  you  better  come  down  heah  in  de  water,  nice  an' 


188  HUMOROUS  HITS 

cool  down  here.'  But  dey  said :  'Man  alive,  you  better  come  up 
here  in  dis  boat  while  you  got  a  chance.'  But  he  said :  *No,  in- 
doedy !  I  git  aboard  no  boat ;  I'm  havin'  plenty  fun  in  de  water.' 
Well,  bimeby,  my  bruddren,  what  you  tink  dat  pore  man  seen? 
A  horrible^  awful  shark,  my  bruddren;  mouf  wide  opne,  teef 
more'n  a  foot  long,  ready  to  chaw  dat  pore  man  all  up  de  minute 
he  catch  him.  Well,  when  he  seen  dat  shark  he  begiui  to  git 
awful  scared,  an'  he  holler  out  to  de  folks  on  board  de  ship : 
'Take  me  on  board,  take  me  on  board,  quick !'  But  dey  said : 
'No,  indeed;  you  wouldn't  come  up  here  before,  you  swim  now!' 

"He  look  over  his  shoulder  an'  he  seen  dat  shark  a-comin'  an' 
he  let  hisself  out.  Fust  it  was  de  man  an'  den  it  Avas  de  shark, 
an'  den  it  was  de  man  again,  dat  away,  my  bruddren,  plutn  to  de 
promised  land.  Dat  am  de  blessed  troof  I'm  a-tellin'  you  dis 
minute.  But  what  do  you  t'ink  was  a-waitin'  for  him  on  de  odder 
shore  when  he  got  dere?  A  horrible,  awful  lion,  my  bruddren, 
was  a-stan'in'  dere  on  de  shore,  a-lashin'  his  sides  wid  his  tail, 
an'  a-roarin'  away  fit  to  devour  dat  poor  nigger  de  minit  he  git 
on  de  shore. 

"Well,  he  tear  powerful  scared  den,  he  don't  know  what  he 
gwine  to  do.  If  he  stay  in  de  water  de  shark  eat  him  up;  if  he 
go  on  shore  de  lion  eat  him  up;  he  dunno  whr.t  to  do.  But  he 
put  his  trust  in  de  Lord,  an'  went  for  de  shore.  Dat  lion  he  give 
a  fearful  roar  an'  bound  for  him;  but,  my  liruddren,  as  sure  as 
you  live  an'  breeve,  dat  horrible,  awful  lion  he  jump  clean  ober 
dat  pore  feller's  head  into  de  water;  an'  de  shark  eat  de  lion. 
But,  my  bruddren,  don't  you  put  your  trust  in  no  such  circum- 
stance; dat  pore  man  he  done  git  saved,  but  I  tell  you  de  Lord 
ain't  a-gwiiie  to  furnish  a  lion  fo'  every  nigger!" 


HE  WANTED  TO  KNOW 

ANONYMOUS 

Early  one  moonlight  morning,  in  the  city  of  London,  a  man  was 
vainly  trying  to  find  his  home,  but  being  unable  1o  locate  it  he 
called  upon  the  services  of  a  passer-by. 

"Hey!  M-m-mister  (hie),  will  you  take  me  to  twenty-two?" 


HUMOROUS   HITS  189 

"Number  twenty — Why  you  are  standing  right  in  front  of  it!" 

"Oh,  no  you  d-d-don't, — that's  two-two,  two-two !" 

"Why,  no,  it's  twenty-two." 

"Say,  you  can't  fool  me.  'Nuther  fellow  tried  to  d-d-do  that. 
He-he-he  told  me  the  other  side  of  the  street  was  (hie)  on  this 
side, — an'  'tisn't, — s-sit's  over  there.  Please  t-t-take  me  (hie)  to 
twenty- two,  will  you?" 

The  man  walked  him  around  the  block  and  back  again. 

"Now,  then,  get  out  your  key.    I  must  be  going." 

"Say,  it  was  m-m-mighty  (hie)  jolly  of  you  to  bring  me  all  this 
1-1-long  way  ho-ho-home,  old  chap !" 

"That's  all  right.     Now  get  your  key, — hurry  up." 

"I'm  ever  so  much  obliged  to  you  for  bringing  me  all  this 
long  Avay  ho-ho-home." 

"That's  all  right.    I  must  go  now.    Good-night." 

The  man  had  walked  but  a  little  distance  when  he  heard  his 
friend  tiyhig  to  whistle  to  him. 

"Hey!  {Tries  to  whistle).  C-co-come  here,  I  want  ter  speak 
to  you.    Now  d-d-don't  get  mad  (hie),  old  chap,  it's  important." 

"Well,  what  do  you  want?" 

"I  just  want  to  (hie)  tell  you  how  much  obliged  I'm  to  you 
for  bringmg  me  all  this  long  way  home." 

"You  had  better  go  to  bed  now,  so  good-night." 

"'Hold  up,  old  chap,  you're  a-a-a — ^would  you  mind  telling 
me  what  your  name  is?" 

Here  the  clock  in  St.  Paul's  struck  two. 

"My  name — is  St.  Paul." 

"Good  enough.  Miss  Saint  'All.  Much  obliged  to  you  for  bring 
—me " 

"Never  mind,  good-night." 

"Hey!  Hi!  {Tries  to  whistle).  Mister  Saint  'All— Miss  Saint 
P-all,  co-co-come  here,  I  want  to  ask  (hie)  you  something." 

"What !" 

"Old  f-f-friend,  I  d-d-d-d-didn't  mean  that,  Misser  Saint  FauU, 
■ — I  just  want  to  ask  you  a  persh-pershonal  question,  Mis-Mis " 

"Well,  what  is  it?" 

"Misser  Saint  Paul,  would  you  mind  teUing  me  whether  you 
ever  got  answers  to  those  letters  you  wrote  to  the  Ephesians?" 


190  HUMOROUS    HITS 

AN  OPPORTUNITY 

AN0NTM0t3S 

I  dropt  into  the  post-ofTioe  this  morning  for  my  mail,  and  just 
inside  tlie  door  I  found  a  little  boy  crying  very  bitterly.  Nat- 
urally I  asked  him  the  cause  of  his  trouble,  and  lifting  his  tear- 
stained  face  to  mine  he  said : 

"I  had  two  quarters,  and  a  feller  come  along  just  now  and 
took  one  away  from  me." 

"What!"  said  I,  ''right  here  in  the  post-office f 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Well,  why  didn't  you  tell  some  one?" 

"I  did  ;  I  hollered,  'Help  !  help  !'  "     {Said  very  weakly.) 

"Well,"  I  said,  ''is  that  as  loud  as  you  can  holler  f" 

"Yes,  sir." 

So  I  took  the  other  quarter. 

GAPE-SEED 

ANONYMOUS 

A  fanner,  walking  the  streets  of  one  of  onr  big  cities,  looked 
through  a  window  at  a  lot  of  men  writing  very  rai)idly  on  type- 
writers; and  as  he  stood  at  the  door  with  his  mouth  open,  one 
of  the  men  called  out  to  him,  "Do  you  wish  to  buy  some  gape- 
seed  f  Passing  on  a  short  distance,  he  asked  a  man  what  the 
business  was  of  the  men  he  had  just  seen  in  the  ofhee  he  had 
passed.  He  was  told  that  they  wrote  letters  dictated  by  others, 
and  transcribed  all  sorts  of  documents.  The  farmer  returned 
to  tlie  ofTice,  and  inquired  if  one  of  the  men  would  write  a  letter 
for  him,  and  was  answered  in  the  affirmative.  He  asked  the  price, 
and  was  told  one  dollar.  After  considerable  talk,  the  bargain 
was  made;  one  of  the  conditions  being  that  the  scribe  should 
write  just  what  the  farmer  told  him  to,  or  he  should  receive  no 
pay.  The  man  said  he  was  ready,  and  the  farmer  dictated  as 
follows : 


HUMOROUS    HITS  191 

"Dear  wife,"  and  then  asked,  "Have  you  got  that  down  ?" 

"Yes;  go  on." 

"I  went  for  a  ride  the  other  day — have  you  got  that  down?" 

"Yes;  go  on,  go  on." 

"And  I  harnessed  up  the  old  mare  into  the  wagon — have  you 
got  that  downf 

"Yes,  yes,  long  ago;  go  on." 

"Why,  how  fast  you  write! — And  I  got  into  the  wagon,  and 
sat  down,  and  drew  up  the  reins,  and  took  the  whip  in  my  right 
hand — have  you  got  that  down?" 

"Yes,  long  ago;  go  on." 

"Dear  me,  how  fast  you  wi'ite !  I  never  saw  your  equal. — 
And  I  said  to  the  old  mare,  'Go  'long,'  and  I  jerked  the  reins 
pretty  hard — have  you  got  that  down  f 

"Yes;  and  I  am  impatiently  waiting  for  more.  I  wish  you 
wouldn't  bother  me  with  so  many  foolish  questions.  Go  on  with 
your  letter." 

"Well,  the  old  mare  wouldn't  stir  out  of  her  tracks,  and  I 
hollered,  'Go  'long,  you  old  jade!  go  'long' — have  you  got  that 
down?" 

"Yes,  indeed,  you  pestiferous  felloiv;  go  on." 

"And  I  licked  her,  and  licked  her,  and  licked  her "  {continu- 
ing to  repeat  these  words  as  rapidly  as  possible). 

"Hold  on  there !  I  have  written  two  pages  of  'licked  her,' 
and  I  want  the  rest  of  the  letter." 

"Well,  and  she  kicked,  and  she  kicked,  and  she  kicked "{con- 
tinuing to  repeat  these  words  with  great  rapidity). 

"Do  go  on  with  your  letter;  I  have  several  pages  of  'she 
kicked.' " 

{The  farmer  clucks  as  in  urging  horses  to  move,  and  continues 
the  clucking  noise  with  rapid  repetition  for  some  time.) 

The  scribe  jumps  up  from  the  typewriter. 

"Write  it  down!  write  it  down!" 

"I  can't !" 

"Well,  then,  I  won't  pay  you." 

{The  scribe,  gathering  up  his  papers.)  "What  shall  I  do  with 
all  these  sheets  upon  which  I  have  written  your  nonsense?" 

"You  might  use  them  in  doing  up  your  gape-seed!    Good-day !" 


192  HUMOKOUS    HITS 

LARIAT  BILL 

ANONYMOUS     . 

"Well,  stranger,  'twas  somewhere  in  'sixty-nine 

I  wore  runnin'  the  'Frisco  fast  express; 
An'  from  Murder  Creek  to  Blasted  Pine, 

Wex'e  nigh  onto  eighteen  mile,  I  guess. 
The  road  were  a  down-grade  all  the  way, 

An'  we  pulled  out  of  Murder  a  little  late, 
So  I  opened  the  throttle  wide  that  day, 

And  a  mile  a  minute  was  'bout  our  gait. 

"My  fireman's  name  was  Lariat  Bill, 

A   quiet   man  with   an  easy   way. 
Who  could  rope  a  steer  with  a  cowboy's  skill, 

Which  he  had  learned  in  Texas,  I've  heard  him  say: 
The  coil  were  strong  as  tempered  steel. 

An'  it  went  like  a  bolt  from  a  crossbow  flung. 
An'  arter  Bill  changed  from  saddle  to  wheel, 

Just  over  his  head  in  the  cab  it  hung. 

"Well,  as  I  were  saying,  we  fairly  flew 

As  we  struck  tlie  curve  at  Buffalo  Spring, 
An'  I  give  her  full  steam  an'  put  her  through, 

An'  the  engine  rocked  like  a  living  thing; 
When  nil  of  a  sudden  I  got  a  scare — 

For  thar  on  the  track  were  a  little  child ! 
An'  right  in  the  path  of  the  engine  there 

She  held  out  her  little  hands  and  smiled! 

"I  jerked  the  lover  and  whistled  for  brakes. 

The  wheels  threw  sparks  like  a  shower  of  gold; 
But  I  knew  the  trouble  a  down-grade  makes. 

An'  I  set  my  teeth  an'  my  flesh  grew  cold. 
Then  Lariat  Bill  yanked  his  long  lasso. 

An'  out  on  the  front  of  the  engine  crept — 
He  balanced  a  moment  before  he  tlu-ew, 

Then  out  in  the  air  his  lariat  swept !" 


HUMOROUS    HITS  193 

He  paused.     There  were  tears  in  his  honest  eyes; 

The  stranger  listened  with  bated  breath. 
"I  know  the  rest  of  the  tale,"  he  cries; 

"He  snatched  the  child  from  the  jaws  of  death! 
'Twas  the  deed  of  a  hero,  from  heroes  bred, 

"Whose  praises  the  very  angels  sing!" 
The  engineer  shook  his  grizzled  head. 

And  growled :  "He  didn't  do  no  sich  thing. 

"He  aimed  at  the  stump  of  a  big  pine  tree, 

An'  the  lariat  caught  with  a  doi:ble  hitch. 
An'  in  less  than  a  second  the  train  an'  we 

Were  yanked  off  the  track  an'  inter  the  ditch! 
'Twere  an  awful  smash,  an'  it  laid  me  out, 

I  ain't  forgot  it,  and  never  shall; 
Were  the  passengers  hurt  1    Lemme  see — about — • 

Yes,  it  killed  about  forty — but  saved  the  gal !" 


THE  CANDIDATE 

BT    BILL    NYE 

The  heat  and  the  venom  of  each  political  campaign  bring  back 
to  my  mind  with  wonderful  clearness  the  bitter  and  acrimonious 
war,  and  the  savage  factional  fight,  which  characterized  my  own 
legislative  candidacy  in  what  was  called  the  Prairie  Dog  District 
of  Wyoming,  about  ten  years  ago. 

I  hesitated  about  accepting  the  nomination  because  I  knew  that 
vituperation  would  get  up  on  its  hmd  feet  and  annoy  me  greatly, 
and,  indeed,  this  turned  out  to  be  the  case. 

In  dvxe  time  I  was  nominated,  and  one  evening  my  heart  swelled 
when  I  heard  a  campaign  band  coming  up  the  street,  trying  to 
see  how  little  it  could  play  and  still  draw  its  salary.  The  band 
was  followed  by  men  with  torches,  and  speakers  in  cari'iages. 
A  messenger  was  sent  into  the  house  to  tell  me  that  I  was  al)out 
to  be  waited  upon  by  my  old  friends  and  neighbors,  who  desired 


194  humo:rous  hits 

to  deliver  to  me  their  hearty  endorsement,  and  a  large  willow- 
covered  two-gallon  Godspeed  as  a  mark  of  esteem. 

The  spokesman,  as  soon  as  I  had  stept  out  on  my  veranda, 
mounted  the  improvised  platform  previously  erected,  and  after 
a  short  and  debilitated  solo  and  chorus  by  the  band,  said  as 
follows,  as  near  as  I  can  now  recall  his  words : 

"  BIr.  Nye— 

"Sir : — We  have  read  with  pain  the  open  and  A^enomous  attacks 
of  the  foul  and  putrid  press  of  our  town,  and  come  here  to- 
night to  vindicate  by  our  presence  your  utter  innocence  as  a  man, 
as  a  fellow  citizen,  as  a  neighbor,  as  a  father,  mother,  brother 
or  sister. 

"No  one  could  look  doivn  into  your  open  face,  and  deep, 
earnest  lungs,  and  then  doubt  you  as  a  man,  as  a  fellow  citizen, 
as  a  neighbor,  as  a  father,  mother,  brother,  or  sister.  You  came 
to  us  a  poor  man,  and  staked  your  all  on  the  growth  of  this  town. 
We  like  you  because  you  are  still  poor.  You  can  not  be  too 
poor  to  suit  us.    It  shows  that  you  are  not  corrupt. 

"Mr.  Nye,  on  behalf  of  this  vast  assemblage  {tremulo),  I  am 
glad  that  you  are  POOR !  !  !" 

Mr.  Limberquid  then  said : 

"Sir: — What  do  we  care  for  the  vilifications  of  the  press — 
a  press  hired,  venial,  corrupt,  reeking  in  filth  and  oozy  with  the 
slime  of  its  own  impaired  circulation,  snapping  at  the  heels  of  its 
superiors,  and  steeped  in  the  reeking  poison  and  pollution  of  its 
own  shop-worn  and  unmarketable  opinions? 

"What  do  Ave  care  that  homely  men  grudge  our  candidate  his 
symmetry  of  form  and  graceful,  upholstered  carriage'?  What  do 
we  care  that  calumny  crawls  out  of  its  hole,  calumniates  him  a 
couple  of  times  and  then  goes  back? 

"We  like  him  for  the  poverty  he  has  made.  Our  idea  in  run- 
ning him  for  the  Legislature  is  to  give  him  a  chance  to  accumulate 
poverty,  and  have  some  saved  up  for  a  rainy  day." 

Several  people  wept  here,  and  wiped  their  eyes  on  their  ala- 
baster hands.  The  band  then  played,  "See  the  Conquering  Hero 
Comes,"  and  yielding  to  the  pressing  demands  of  the  populi,  I 
made  a  few  irrelevant,  but  low,  passionate  remarks,  as  follows : 

"Fellow  Citizens  and  Members  of  the  Baud : — We  are  not  here, 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  195 

as  I  understand  it,  solely  to  tickle  our  palates  with  the  twisted 
doughnuts  of  our  pami)ered  and  sin-curst  civilization,  but  to 
unite  and  give  our  pledges  once  more  to  the  support  of  the  best 
men.  In  this  teacup  of  foaming  and  impervious  cider  from  the 
Valley  of  the  Jordan  I  drink  to  the  success  of  the  best  men. 
Fellow  citizens  and  members  of  the  band,  we  owe  our  fealty  to 
the  old  party.  Let  us  cling  to  the  old  party  as  long  as  there 
is  any  juice  in  it  and  vote  for  its  candidates.  Let  us  give  our 
suffrages  to  men  of  advanced  thought  who  are  loyal  to  their 
party  but  poor.  Gentlemen,  I  am  what  would  be  called  a  poor 
but  bramy  man.  When  I  am  not  othenvise  engaged  you  will 
always  tind  me  engaged  in  thought.  I  love  the  excitement  of 
following  an  idea  and  chasing  it  up  a  tree.  It  is  a  great  pleasure 
for  me  to  pursue  the  red-hot  trail  of  a  thought  or  the  intellectual 
spoor  of  an  idea.  But  I  do  not  allow  this  habit  to  mterfere  with 
politics.  Politics  and  thought  are  radically  different.  Why  should 
man  think  himself  weak  on  these  political  matters  when  there 
are  men  who  have  made  it  their  business  and  life  study  to  do  the 
thinkmg  for  the  masses'? 

"This  is  my  platfonn.  I  believe  that  a  candidate  should  be 
poor;  that  he  should  be  a  thinker  on  other  matters,  but  leave 
political  matters  and  nominations  to  professional  political  ganglia 
and  molders  of  primaries  who  have  given  their  lives  and  the 
inner  coating  of  their  stomachs  to  the  advancement  of  political 
methods  by  which  the  old,  cumbersome  and  dangerous  custom  of 
defending  our  institutions  with  drawn  swords  may  be  superseded 
by  the  modern  and  more  attractive  method  of  doing  so  with 
overdrawn  salaries. 

"Fellow  Citizens  and  Members  of  the  Band : — In  closing  let  me 
say  that  you  have  seen  me  placed  in  the  trying  position  of  post- 
master for  the  past  year.  For  that  length  of  time  I  have  stood 
between  you  and  the  government  at  Washington.  I  have  assisted 
in  upholding  the  strong  arm  of  the  government,  and  yet  I  have 
not  allowed  it  to  crush  you.  No  man  here  to-night  can  say  that 
I  have  ever,  by  word  or  deed,  revealed  outside  the  office  the  con- 
tents of  a  postal  card  addrest  to  a  member  of  my  own  party  or 
held  back  or  obstructed  the  progress  of  new  and  startling  seeds 
sent  by  our  representative  from  the  Agricultural  Department. 


196  HUMOROUS    HIT 

I  am  in  favor  of  a  full  and  free  interchange  of  interstate  red- 
eyed  and  pale  beans,  and  I  favor  the  early  advancement  and 
earnest  recognition  of  the  merits  of  the  highly  offensive  partizan. 
I  thank  you,  neighbors  and  band  {hvsky  and  pianissimo),  for 
this  gratifying  little  demonstration.  Words  seem  empty  and 
unavailing  at  this  time.  Will  you  not  accept  the  hospitality  of 
my  home?  Neighbors,  you  are  welcome  to  these  halls.  Come  in 
and  look  at  the  family  album." 


ONE  AFTERNOON 

AKONYMOUS 

The  events  narrated  in  the  following  story  take  place  about  the 
middle  of  the  twentieth  century.  At  that  date  the  institution 
known  as  the  department  stoi-e  had  reached  its  full  development. 
There  was  not  a  single  article  of  any  kind  that  could  not  be 
purchased  at  one  of  these  mammoth  emporiums.  It  is  well  to 
bear  this  fact  in  mind,  for  the  whole  action  of  this  stoi'y  takes 
place  under  the  roof  of  Sniggle  Scooper's  Department  Store. 

Scene  the  First.  When  Charlie  Hussel  entered  Sniggle 
Scooper's  refreshment  department  on  that  beautiful  summer  af- 
ternoon, he  had  no  more  idea  of  getting  married  than  most  mil- 
lionaires have  of  paying  full  taxes  on  all  their  property.  Char- 
lie sat  down  at  the  counter  and  oi'dered  a  plain  soda.  He  had 
been  at  the  club  the  night  before  and  his  nerves  were  somewhat 
unstrung.  While  waiting  for  his  soda  he  noticed  a  young  lady 
l)y  his  side  toying  with  an  ice  cream  soda  marked  down  from 
seven  cents  to  four  and  a  half.  She  was  as  fair  as  a  poet's  dream 
and  the  young  man's  heart  beat  tumultuously  within  him  as  he 
gazed  at  her.  He  longed  for  an  opportunity  of  speaking  to  her 
and  at  last  it  came.  She  dropt  her  purse, — whether  by  acci- 
dent I  leave  you  to  conjecture.  Picking  up  the  pocketbook  our 
hero  handed  it  to  the  young  lady  with  a  bow.  She  took  the  pock- 
etbook, but  returned  the  bow. 

"Thank  you,"  she  murmured ;  "you  are  very  kind." 
"No,"  said  he,  "I  am  not  kind.    I'm  a  selfish  brute!" 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  I97 

"Then  why  did  you  trouble  yourself  to  pick  up  my  purse?" 

"Because,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  wanted  to  hear  your  voice." 

"And  now  that  you  have  heard  it?" 

"I  wish  I  could  hear  it  always.  Consent  to  be  my  wife.  You 
love  me,  do  you  not?" 

"Yes!     What  is  your  name?" 

"Charlie  Hussel, — and  yours,  dear?" 

"Mildred  Uptodate.  Now,  Charlie,  you  must  ask  father's  con- 
sent." 

"All  right,  Mabel,  There  is  a  telejDhone  on  the  next  floor. 
Come  along  and  I'll  ask  him." 

They  ascended  by  the  escalator. 

Scene  the  Second.  Mr.  Uptodate  readily  gave  his  consent, 
for  he  knew  of  Charlie  Hussel  in  a  business  way. 

"Now,  Mildred,  let  us  set  the  time  for  the  wedding.  It  is  now 
five  minutes  after  one.     Suppose  we  say  four  o'clock?" 

"Oh,  dear,  no,  I  can't  possibly  get  ready  before  to-morrow  af- 
ternoon." 

"Of  course  you  can.  Why,  you  can  get  everything  you  need 
right  here  in  this  store." 

"Well,  Charlie,  if  you  insist,  I  suppose  I  must  yield.  But  it 
seems  a  teiTibly  short  engagement." 

"Yes,  sweetheart,  but  then  our  married  life  will  be  so  much 
longer.  Run  along,  now,  darling,  and  get  your  wedding-gown, 
while  I  get  a  suit  of  clothes  and  attend  to  the  license.  Meet  me 
in  the  chapel  on  the  top  floor  at  half  past  four  sharp." 

At  the  appointed  hour  the  happy  couple  wei'e  made  one  by  the 
department  stoi'e  clergyman.  A  few  minutes  later  they  were 
seated  in  the  cafe  enjoying  their  wedding  dinner.  How  happy 
they  were  as  they  planned  for  the  future ! 

Scene  the  Third.  Dinner  was  over  and  the  happy  pair  went 
hand-in-hand  toward  the  transportation  department  to  arrange 
for  their  wedding  tour.  As  they  passed  a  bargain  counter,  the 
bride  exclaimed  rapturously: 

"0  Charlie,  I  see  some  lovely  bargains  over  there.  Do  let  me 
have  two  dollars." 


198  HUMOKOUS    HITS 

A  moment  later  the  proud  husband  was  watching  his  wife 
as  with  the  ease  born  of  long  practise  she  fought  her  way  through 
the  crowd  and  reached  the  counter.  After  a  little  while  she 
returned  wavhig  triumphantly  a  folded  paper,  exclaiming: 

''Wasn't  I  lucky?    I  got  the  last  one  they  had." 

"What  is  it?" 

"Why,  don't  you  know  ?     It's  a  divorce !" 

The  young  man  grew  pale. 

"I  thought,"  he  said,  "you  loved  me." 

"Why,  of  course  I  love  you,  but  I  simply  couldn't  resist  such 
a  bargam  as  that." 

She  pointed  to  a  sign.     Charlie  looked  at  it  and  read: 


THIS    DAY    ONLY! 

Our    Regular    Divorces    Marked 

Down 

From    $2.75    to    I1.69 

NOT  IN  IT 

ANONYMOUS 

They  built  a  church  at  his  very  door — 

"He  wasn't  in  it." 
They  brought  him  a  scheme  for  relieving  the  poor — 

"He  wasn't  in  it." 
Let  them  work  for  themselves,  as  he  had  done, 
They  wouldn't  ask  help  from  any  one 
If  they  hadn't  wasted  each  golden  minute — 

"He  wasn't  in  it." 
So  he  passed  the  poor  with  haughty  tread — 

"He  wasn't  in  it." 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  199 

When  men  in  the  balls  of  virtue  met 
He  saw  tlieii'  goodness  without  regret; 
Too  hig'h  the  mark  for  him  to  win  it — • 

"He  wasn't  in  it." 
A  carriage  crept  down  the  street  one  day — 

"He  was  in  it." 
The  funeral  trappings  made  a  display— 

"He  was  in  it." 
St.  Peter  received  him  with  book  and  bell ; 
"My  friend,  you  have  purchased  a  ticket  to — well, 
Your  elevator  goes  down  in  a  minute." 

''He  was  in  it !" 


A  TWILIGHT  IDYL 

BY  ROBERT   J.   BURDETTE 

One  summer  evening,  Mr.  Ellis  Henderson,  a  popular  young 
man,  went  out  walking  with  two  of  the  sweetest  girls  in  town. 
Mr,  Henderson  wore  a  little  straw  hat  with  a  navy  blue  band, 
a  cutaway  coat,  a  pair  of  white  trousers,  a  white  vest,  a  button- 
hole bouquet,  and  fifteen  cents.  The  evening  was  very  hot,  and  as 
they  walked,  they  talked  about  the  baseball  match,  the  weather, 
and  sunstrokes.  By  and  by  one  of  the  young  ladies  gave  a  deli- 
cate little  shriek. 

"00-00  !    What  a  funny  sign!" 

"Ha — yes,"  said  Mr.  Henderson,  in  troubled  tones,  looking 
gently  but  resolutely  at  the  wrong  side  of  the  street. 

"How  funny  it  is  spelled;  see,  Ethel." 

"Why,"  said  Ethel,  "it  is  spelled  correctly.  Isn't  it,  Mr.  Hen- 
derson?" 

"Hy — why — aw — why,  yes,  to  be  sure,"  said  Mr.  Henderson, 
staring  at  a  window  full  of  house-plants. 

"Why,  Mr.  Henderson,"  said  Elfrida,  "how  can  you  say  so? 
Just  see,  'i — c — e,  ice,  c — r  double  e — m,  cream';  that's  not  the 
way  to  spell  cream." 

And  Mr.  Henderson,  who  was  praying  harder  than  he  ever 
prayed  before  that  an  earthquake  might  come  along  and  swallow 


200  HUMOROUS    HITS 

up  either  himself  or  all  the  ice-cream  parlors  in  the  United  States, 
looked  up  at  the  chimney  of  the  house  and  said : 

"That?  Oh,  yes,  yea;  of  course,  why  certainly.  How  very 
much  cooler  it  has  grown  within  the  past  few  minutes.  That  cool 
wave  from  Manitoba  is  nearing  us  once  more." 

He  took  out  his  handkerchief  and  swabbed  a  face  that  would 
scorch  an  iceberg  brown  in  ten  minutes. 

"Is  it  true,  Mr.  Henderson,"  asked  Ethel,  "that  soda  fountams 
sometimes  explode?" 

"Oh,  frequently,"  said  he,  and  they  scatter  death  and  desti-ue- 
tion  ever}^vhere.  In  some  of  our  Eastern  cities  they  liave  been 
abolished  by  law, — and  they  ought  to  do  the  same  thing  here ! 
Why,  in  New  York,  all  the  soda  fountains  have  been  removed  far 
outside  the  city  limits  and  are  now  located  side  by  side  with  pow- 
der houses." 

"I  am  not  afraid  of  them,"  said  Ethel,  "and  I  don't  believe  they 
are  a  bit  dangerous." 

"Nor  I,"  echoed  Elfrida,  "I  would  not  be  afraid  to  walk  up 
to  one  and  stand  by  it  all  day.  Why  are  you  so  afraid  of  them, 
Mr.  Henderson?" 

"Because  once  I  had  a  fair,  sweet  young  sister  blown  to  pieces 
by  one  of  those  terrible  engines  of  destmction  while  she  was 
drinking  at  it,  and  I  can  not  look  at  one  without  gi-owing  faint." 

"How  do  they  make  soda  water,  ]\Ir.  Henderson?" 

He  was  about  to  reply  that  it  was  composed  chiefly  of  dirt  and 
poison,  when  Ethel  read  aloud  four  ice-cream  signs,  and  said, 
"How  comfortable  and  hajipy  all  those  people  look  in  there." 

Then  young  Mr.  Henderson,  who  had  been  clawing  at  his  hair, 
and  tearing  off  his  necktie  and  collar,  and  pawing  the  air,  shouted 
in  tones  of  wild  frenzy: 

"Oh,  yes,  yes,  yes!  Come  in;  come  in  and  gorge  yourselves. 
Everybody  come  in  and  eat  up  a  whole  week's  salaiy  in  fifteen 
minutes.  Set  'em  up!  Strawben-y,  chocolate,  vanilla,  pineapple, 
raspberry,  lemon,  peach,  apricot,  tutti  frutti,  nesselrode  pudding, 
water-ice,  calce  and  sherbet.  Set  'em  up !  The  treat's  on  me.  Oh, 
yes,  I  can  stand  it.  Ha,  ha!  I'm  Astorbilt  in  disguise.  Oh,  yes; 
it  doesn't  cost  anything  to  take  an  evening  walk!  Put  out  your 
frozen  pudduig!    Ha,  ha,  ha!" 


HUMOROUS    HITS 

They  carried  him  home  to  his  boarding  house,  and  put  him  to 
bed,  and  sent  for  his  physician.  He  is  not  yet  out  of  danger, 
but  will  recover.  The  exact  trouble  is  a  mystery  to  the  doctor, 
but  he  thinks  it  must  be  hydrosodia,  as  the  sight  of  a  piece  of  ice 
throws  the  patient  into  the  wildest  and  most  furious  paroxysms. 


LAVERY'S  HENS 

ANONYMOUS 

Michael  Lavery,  a  thrifty  Irishman,  lived  in  a  smaU  cottage, 
on  Devarsey  Street,  South  Side,  Chicago.  It  had  no  yard  in 
front,  and  the  rear  was  ditto.  It  had  a  cellar,  however,  and  it 
occurred  to  Lavery  that  he  might  make  something  out  of  it  by 
using  it  as  a  hen-house;  but  one  cold  night,  during  the  following 
winter,  the  water-pipes  burst,  flooded  the  cellar,  and  drowned 
the  chickens.  Friends  of  Lavery  told  him  the  city  woiUd  make 
good  his  loss  if  he  made  proper  application.  So  Mr.  Lavery  went 
do^\^l  to  the  city  hall,  and  entering  the  room  of  the  clerk,  said: 

"Good  marnin'.  Me  name  is  Michael  Lavery,  and  I  live  in  De- 
varsey Street,  on  the  South  Side,  and  I  kape  chickens  in  me  cel- 
lar, and  the  water  came  in  and  drowned  thim;  what'U  I  do?" 

"What's  that?" 

"Me  name  is  Michael  Lavery,  and  I  live  in  Devarsey  Street, 
on  the  South  Side,  and  I  kape  chickens  in  me  cellar,  and  the  wa- 
ter came  in  and  drowned  thim ;  what'U  I  do  ?" 

"Wliat's  that?" 

"Me  name  is  Michael  Lavery,  and  I  live  in  Devarsey  Street, 
on  the  South  Side,  and  I  kape  chickens  in  me  cellar,  and  the  wa- 
ter came  in  and  drowned  thim;  what'U  I  do?" 

"The  water  came  in  and  drowned  j-our  chickens;  what  will 
you  do?" 

"Yis,  sir." 

"Well,  you  step  into  the  next  room  and  see  the  mayor.  You 
will  find  him  at  his  desk ;  tell  him  what  you  want." 

"All  right,  sir,  I  will."     {Exit  Laverjf  to  next  room.) 


202  HUMOROUS    HITS 

"Good  marniii'.  Me  name  is  Michael  Lavery,  and  I  live  in  De- 
varsey  Street,  on  the  South  Side,  and  I  kape  chickens  in  me  cel- 
lar, and  the  water  came  in  and  drowned  thim;  what'll  I  do?" 

{Gnt/jly.)     "What,  sir?" 

"Me  name  is  Michael  Lavery,  and  I  live  in  Devarsey  Street, 
on  the  South  Side,  and  I  kape  chickens  in  me  cellar,  and  the 
water  came  in  and  drowned  thim;  what'll  I  do?" 

"What's  that  ?" 

{Very  loud.)  "Me  name  is  Michael  Lavery,  and  I  live  in  De- 
varsey Street,  on  the  South  Side,  and  I  kape  chickens  in  me  cel- 
lar, and  the  water  came  and  drowned  thim;  what'll  I  do?" 

"I  don't  understand  one  word  you  say,  sir!" 

(Very  softly  and  sarcastically,  and  working  up  into  loud  voice.) 
"Me  name  is  Michael  Lavery,  and  I  live  in  Devarsey  Street,  on 
the  South  Side,  and  I  kape  chickens  in  me  cellar,  and  the  water 
came  in  and  drowned  thim;  what'll  I  do?" 

"The  water  came  in  and  drowned  your  chickens;  what  will  you 
do?" 

"Yis,  sir." 

"Well  I  can  do  nothing  for  you,  so  good-morning,  sir !" 

{Clerk  whispers  to  Lavery  as  he  is  passing  out.)  "Well,  Mi*. 
Lavery,  what  did  he  say  to  you?" 

"Kape  ducks!" 


y       LISP 

ANONYMOUS 

Thome  folks  thay  I  listhp. 
But  then  I  don't  perthieve  it. 
Jutli  listhen  while  I  call  the  eat : 
"Here  Pusthy!  Pusthy !  Pusthy!" 
Now  thee  I  don't  listhp. 


V 


HUMOROUS    HITS  203 

THEY  MET  BY  CHANCE 

ANONYMOUS 


They  met  by  chance, 

They  had  never  met  before. 
They  met  by  chance, 

And  she  was  stricken  sore. 

They  never  met  again, 
Don't  want  to,  I'll  allow! 

They  met  but  once: 

'Twas  a  freight-train  and  a  cow! 


THE  BRIDEGROOM'S  TOAST 

ANONYMOUS 

(Speaks  while  seated.)  "I  know  a  story, — what?  (Laughs.) 
I  know  another  story, — eh?  Oh,  don't  ask  me.  I  never  made 
a  sj^eech  m  my  life.     I  am  willing  to  do  anything  to  make  you 

fully  enjoy (This  is  broken  by  applause,   which  the   reader 

may  imitate  by  rapping  on  a  chair,  or  on  a  table.)  I  will  only 
make  a  fool  of  myself (Attempting  to  get  up.  More  ap- 
plause. Sits  down  again.)  I  would  rather  not.  (After  much 
difficulty  and  persuasion  he  rises  to  his  feet  and  begins.)  Ladies 
and  gentlemen,  I  have  been  suddenly  called  upon  to  propose  a 
toast,  which  I  think  you  will  admit, — I  am  suddenly  called  upon, 
— very  suddenly, — to  propose  and — — -(Sits  down.  More  applause. 
Rises  again.)  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  you  are  very  kind  (clears 
throat)  and  I  will  do  my  best,  and  I  only  hope  that  unaccustomed 
as  I  am  to  public  houses, — speaking, — I  sometimes  find  I  have 
some  difficulty  in  the, — of  course  I  don't  mean  to  say, — I  don't 
mean  to  say  what  I  mean  when  I  mean  what  I  say!  At  all 
events,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  am  very,  very  much  obliged  for 
the  kind  remarks  in  which  you  have  drunk  my  health.  (Sits 
down.     Rises    again.)      I   am   called   upon   to    propose    a   toast 


204  HUMOROUS    HITS 

{makes  a  motion  as  if  someone  has  throivn  something  at  him 
from  behind  striking  him  on  the  head)  upon — to  propose  a  toast, 
but  have  forgotten  it.  Considering  it  is  the  most  important  toast 
of  the  evening  you  will  understand — {A^idc:  'Wliat  is  the  toast  f) 
— the  toast  of  the  ladies.  Of  course  we  all  know  (runs  his  hand 
up  and  doivn  the  back  of  the  chair)  whatever  may  be  said  against 
them, — whatever  people  may  say  about  the  ladies,  there  is  no 
doubt  the  ladies  are  really  a  very  excellent — institution !  I 
don't  agree  with  those  people  who — I  think,  I  say,  that  far  from 
being  a  uniform  success  they  are  the  reverse.  I  am  bold  enough 
to  say,  I  don't  agree  that  they  are  very  nearly  as  good  as  we  are. 
I  know  {again  he  is  hit  in  the  back)  there  are  few  drink  the  health 
of  the  army  and  navy, — I  mean  ladies.  Shakespeare  says  that 
'when  a  woman'  {hit  again) — I  had  it  just  now.  Shakespeare 
says,  'When  a  woman,' — oh,  yes,  the  immor(,al  bard  says,  'We 
won't  go  home  till  morning!'"  {Sits  down  in  great  confusion.) 


REHEARSING  FOR  PRIVATE  THEATRICALS 

BY   STANLEY  HUNTLEY 

"Now,  my  dear,"  said  Mr.  Spoopendyke,  opening  the  book  and 
assuming  the  correct  dramatic  scowl — "now  my  dear,  we'll  rehearse 
our  parts  for  Specklewottle's  theatricals.  I'm  to  be  Hamlet  and 
you're  to  be  the  rjueen,  and  we  want  this  thing  to  go  off  about 
right.  The  hardest  part  we  have  to  play  together  is  where  I  ac- 
cuse you  of  poisoning  my  father,  and  we'd  better  tiy  that  until 
we  get  it  perfect.    I'll  commence : 

"Now,  mother,  what's  the  matter?" 

"Well,  I  was  thinking  whether  I  had  better  wear  my  black 
silk  or  my  maroon  suit.     Do  queens  wear " 

"Will  you  be  kind  enough  to  tell  me  what  pack  of  cards  you 
got  that  idea  of  a  queen  from?  Do  you  supi)ose  the  queen  sent 
for  Hamlet  to  get  his  opinion  about  bargains  in  dry-goods? 
When  I  say  that  you  must  say,  'Hamlet,  thou  hast  thy  father 
much  offended !' " 

"Oh,  I  understand,  I  thought  you  asked  me  what  I  was  think- 


HUMOKOUS    HITS  205 

ing  about.  I  didn't  know  yon  bad  commenced  to  play.  Try  it 
again." 

"Well  yon  be  careful  tbis  time,  tbis  is  a  play,  tbis  is.  Tbink 
you  know  tbe  difference  between  a  play  and  a  bankrupt  sale? 
Know  tbe  distinction  between  a  play  and  a  millinery-sbop  open- 
ing? Now,  I'll  begin  again  and  you  try  to  do  it  decently." 

"Now,  motber,  wbat's  tbe  matter!" 

"Tbere's  notbing  tbe  matter  now;  go  on,  dear.  I  understand  it 
now." 

"Say  it,  can't  ye !  Haven't  ye  studied  tbis  busmess?  Don't  ye 
know  your  part  ?" 

"Wbat  sball  I  say,  dear?" 

"Say!  Sing  a  bymn !  If  you  don't  know  your  part,  get  off 
a  psalm!  Didn't  I  tell  you  wbat  to  say?  Look  bare.  Have  you 
ever  read  tbis  play?  Have  you  conceived  any  kind  of  a  notion 
of  wbat  it's  all  about?" 

"Wby,  yes,  you  come  in  and  stab  Mr.  Specklewottle  bebind  tbe 
ears  and  I  scream.    Isn't  tbat  rigbt,  dear?" 

"Hear  ber!  Stab  Specklewottle  bebind  tbe  ears!  Tbat  is  all 
rigbt;  now  you  scream!  Scream,  wby  don't  you?  You  know 
so  mucb  about  your  measly  part,  wby  don't  you  play  it?" 

"We-e-e-e-e !  I  knew  I  could  do  it  rigbt  as  soon  as  you  sbowed 
me  bow.    Will  tbat  do?" 

"Ob,  tbat  was  queenly!  Just  do  tbat  again!  Four  of  tbose 
dramatic  efforts  will  make  tbis  play  tbe  greatest  of  modern  enter- 
tainments !    Do  it  once  more !" 

"It  burts  my  tbroat.  Can't  we  make  it  do  witb  one  scream, 
dear?" 

"Mrs.  Spoopendyke,  tbere's  been  some  mistake  made  in  tbis 
tbing.  You  sbould  bave  been  cast  for  Opbelia.  Tbat  was  tbe 
part  intended  for  you." 

"I  would  just  as  soon  play  it.    Wbat  does  be  do?" 

"He  was  an  idiot  from  his  birtb  and  afterward  went  crazy. 
Tbat  was  tbe  part  for  you." 

"Tben  I'd  ratber  be  queen.  Now,  dear,  let's  commence  all  over 
and  I'll  do  it  rigbt  tbis  time." 

"You  can't  do  it  worse.  I'll  try  it  once  more,  just  to  see 
wbat  kind  of  foolisbness  you  can  work  off." 


206  HUMOROUS    HITS  '  ^  , 

"No\v,  mother,  what's  the  matter?" 

"We-e-e-e,  Ilaralot,  oli,  Ilamlet!  We-e-c-c-e!" 

"Turn  it  off!  Be  quick  and  break  off  the  end!  What's  the 
matter?" 

"We-e-e-e-e!" 

"What's  the  matter  with  you,  anyway?" 

''We-e-e-e-e-e !  My  dear,  you  are  just  splendid  as  Hamlet. 
You  should  have  been  an  actor." 

"Will  ye  ever  shut  up?  Who  ever  told  ye  to  yell  like  that? 
Don't  ye  know  anything  at  all  scarcely?  Think  Hamlet's  a 
lunatic  asylum?  Got  some  kind  of  a  notion  that  the  queen's 
a  fog-horn?     Where'd  ye  get  your  idea  of  this  thing,  anyway?" 

"I  did  just  as  you  told  me,  dear.  You  said  I  was  to  scream 
when  you  asked  me  what  the  matter  was.     Didn't  I  do  it  right?" 

"Oh,  that  was  right !  You  struck  the  keynote  of  high  art  both 
times!  With  that  yell  and  your  knowledge  of  the  text  all  you 
want  now  is  a  fire  and  a  free  list  to  be  a  theater  with  a  restaurant 
attachment!  Such  talent  as  that  can't  be  wasted  on  any  cheap 
Shakespeare  plays  while  I've  got  the  money  and  influence  to 
get  you  a  job  in  the  legitimate  circus !"  And  Mr.  Spoopendyke 
bolted  from  the  house,  thoroughly  disgusted  with  private 
theatricals. 

By  permission  of  The  Brooklyn  Eagle, 


THE  V-A-S-E 

BY  JAMES  JEFFREY  ROCHE 

Far  from  the  crowd  they  stood  apart, 
The  maidens  four  and  the  Work  of  Art; 

And  none  might  tell  from  sight  alone 
In  which  had  culture  ripest  grown, — 

The  Gotham  Alillions  fair  to  see, 
The  Philadeljihia  Pedigree, 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  207, 

The  Boston  Mind  of  azure  hue, 

Or  the  Soulful  Soul  from  Kalamazoo, — 

For  all  loved  Art  in  a  seemly  way, 
With  an  earnest  soul  and  a  capital  A. 

•  •••••• 

Long  they  woi'shiped,  but  no  one  broke 
The  sacred  stillness,  until  up  spoke 

The  Western  one  from  the  nameless  place, 
Who  blushing  said,  "What  a  lovely  vace!" 

Over  three  faces  a  sad  smile  flew, 
And  they  edged  away  from  Kalamazoo. 

But  Gotham's  haughty  soul  was  stii-red 
To  crush  the  stranger  with  one  small  word. 

Deftly  hiding  reproof  in  praise. 

She  cries,  "  'Tis,  indeed,  a  lovely  vaze !" 

But  brief  her  unworthy  triumph  when 
The  lofty  one  from  the  home  of  Penn, 

With  the  consciousness  of  two  grandpapas, 
Exclaims,  "It  is  quite  a  lovely  vahs!" 

And  glances  round  with  an  anxious  thrill, 
Awaiting  the  word  of  Beacon  Hill. 

But  the  Boston  maid  smiles  courteouslee. 
And  gently  murmurs,  "Oh,  pardon  me! 

"I  did  not  catch  your  remark,  because 

I  was  so  entranced  with  that  charming  vawsl" 

And  then  each  nose  was  a  sight  to  see 
Turned  up  in  contempt  at  the  other  three. 


208  HUMOEOUS    HITS 

PAPA  AND  THE  BOY 

BY    J.    L.    IIAEBOUR 

Charming  as  is  the  merry  prattle  of  innocent  ehildhood,  it  is 
not  pai'tieularly  agreeable  at  about  one  o'clock  in  the  morning. 
There  are  young  and  talkative  children  who  have  no  more  regard 
for  your  feelings  or  for  the  proprieties  of  life  than  to  open  their 
eyes  with  a  snap  at  one  or  two  in  the  morning,  and  to  seek  to 
engage  you  in  enlivening  dialog  of  this  sort. 

'Tapa." 

You  think  you  will  pay  no  heed  to  the  imperative  little  voice, 
hoping  that  silence  on  your  part  will  keep  the  youngster  quiet; 
but  again  that  boy  of  three  pipes  out  sharply: 

"Papa!" 

"Well?"  you  say. 

"You  'wake,  papa?" 

"Yes." 

"So's  me." 

"Yes,  I  hear  that  you  are,"  you  say  with  cold  sarcasm.  "What 
do  you  want?" 

"Oh!  nuffin." 

"Well,  lie  still  and  go  to  sleep  then." 

"I  isn't  s'eepy,  papa." 

"Well,  I  am,  young  man." 

"Is  you?  I  isn't — not  a  bit.  Say,  papa,  papa!  If  you  was 
wich  what  would  you  buy  me?" 

"I  don't  know — go  to  sleep." 

"Wouldn't  you  buy  me  nuffin?" 

"I  guess  so ;  now  you " 

"What,  papa?" 

"Well,  a  steam  engine,  may  be;  now  you  go  right  to  sleep." 

"With  a  bell  that  would  ring,  papa?" 

"Yes,  yes;  now  you " 

"And  would  the  wheels  go  wound,  papa?" 

"Oh!  yes  (yawning).     Shut  your  eyes  now,  and " 

"And  would  it  go  choo,  choo,  choo,  papa?" 


HUMOROUS    HiTJS  209 

"Yes,  yes;  now  go  to  sleep." 

"Say,  papa." 

No  answer. 

"Papa !" 

"Well,  what  now?" 

"Is  you  'fraid  of  the  dark?" 

"No"  {droicsllij). 

"I  isn't  either.     Papa !" 

"Well?" 

"If  I  was  wich  I'd  buy  you  somefin.'' 

"Would  you?" 

"Yes;  I'd  buy  you  some  ice-cweam  and  some  ehocolum  drops 
and  a  toof  brush  and  panties  wiv  bwaid  on  like  mine,  and  a 
candy  wooster,  and " 

"That  will  do.     You  must  go  to  sleep  now." 

SUence  for  half  a  second,  then — 

"Papa!  papa!" 

"Well,  what  now?" 

"I  want  a  jink." 

"No,  you  don't." 

"I  do,  papa." 

Experience  has  taught  you  that  there  will  be  no  peace  until 
you  have  brought  the  "jink,"  and  you  scurry  out  to  the  bathroom 
in  the  dark  for  it,  knocking  your  shins  against  everything  in  the 
room  as  you  go. 

"Now  I  don't  want  to  hear  another  word  from  you  to-night," 
you  say,  as  he  gulps  down  a  mouthful  of  the  water  he  didn't 
want.    Two  minutes  later  he  says: 

"Papa !" 

"See  here,  laddie,  papa  will  have  to  punish  you  if " 

"I  can  spell  'dog,'  papa." 

"Well,  nobody  wants  to  hear  you  spell  at  two  o'clock  in  the 
morning." 

"B-o-g— dog;  is  that  right?" 

"No,  it  isn't.     But  nobody  cares  if " 

"Then  it's  d-o-g,  isn't  it?" 

"Yes,  yes;  now  you  lie  right  down  and  go  to  sleep  instantly." 

"Then  I'll  be  a  good  boy,  won't  I,  papa?" 


210  HUMOKOUS    HITS 

"Yes;  you'll  be  the  best  boy  on  earth.    Good-night,  dearie." 

"Papa !" 

"Well,  well!  What  nowf 

"Is  I  your  little  boy?" 

"Yes,  yes;  of  course." 

"Some  mans  haven't  got  any  little  boys;  but  you  have,  haven't 
you?" 

"Yes." 

"Don't  you  wish  you  had  two,  free,  nine,  'leben,  twenty-six, 
ninety-ten,  free  hundred  little  boys?" 

The  mere  possibility  of  such  a  remote  and  contingent  calamity 
so  paralyzes  you  that  you  lie  speechless  for  ten  minutes  during 
which  you  hear  a  yawn  or  two  in  the  little  bed  by  your  side, 
a  little  figure  rolls  over  three  or  four  times,  a  pair  of  heels  fly 
into  the  air  once  or  twice,  a  warm,  moist  little  hand  reaches  out 
and  touches  your  face  to  make  sure  that  you  are  there,  and  the 
boy  is  asleep  with  his  heels  where  his  head  ought  to  be. 


THE  OBSTRUCTIVE  HAT  IN  THE  PIT 

BY    F.    ANSTEY 

Scene:  The  Pit  of  a  London  theatre  during  Pantomime  Time. 

An  Overheated  Matron  {lo  her  husband) — "Well,  they  don't 
give  you  much  room  in  'ere,  I  must  say.  Still,  we  done  better  than 
I  expected,  after  all  that  crushing.  I  thought  my  ribs  was  gone 
once — l)ut  it  was  on'y  the  umbrella's.  You  pretty  comfortable 
where  yon  are,  eh,  father?" 

Father — "Oh,  I'm  right  enough,  I  am." 

Jimmy  {their  small  boy  with  a  piping  voice) — "If  father  is 
it's  more  nor  what  I  am.     I  can't  see,  mother,  I  can't !" 

Mother — "Lor'  bles'  the  boy!  there  ain't  nothen  to  see  yet; 
you'll  see  well  enough  when  the  curling  goes  up.  {Curtain  rises 
on  opening  scene.)  Look,  Jhnmy,  ain't  that  nice,  now?  All  them 
himps,  dancin'  round  and  real  tire  eoniin'  out  of  the  pot — which 
I  'ope  it's  quite  safe — and  there's  a  beautiful  fairy  just  come 
on  drest  so  grand,  too !" 


HUMOROUS    HITS  211 

Jimmy  {whimpering) — "I  can't  see  no  fairy — nor  yet  no  himps 
— no  nothen !" 

Mother  {annoyed) — "Was  there  ever  such  an  aggravating  boy? 
Set  quiet,  do,  and  don't  fidget,  and  look  at  the  hactin'!" 

Jimmy — "I  tell  yer  I  can't  see  no  hactin',  mother.  It  ain't  my 
fault — it's  this  lady  in  front  of  me,  with  the  'at." 

Mother — "Father,  the  pore  boy  says  he  can't  see  where  he  is, 
'cause  of  a  lady's  'at  in  front." 

Father — "Well,  I  can't  'elp  the  'at,  can  I?  He  must  put  up 
with  it,  that's  all !" 

Mother — "No — but  I  thought,  if  you  wouldn't  mind  changing 
places  with  him;  you're  taller  than  him." 

Father — It's  always  the  way  with  you — never  satisfied,  you 
ain't !  Well,  pass  the  boy  across !  I'm  for  a  quiet  life,  I  am 
{changing  seats).  Will  this  do  for  you?"  {He  settles  down 
immediately  behind  a  very  large,  furry  hat  which  he  dodges  for 
some  time.) 

Fatlier  {suddenly)— "Blow  the  'at." 

Mother — "You  can't  wonder  at  the  boy  not  seeing!  P'r'aps 
the  lady  wouldn't  mind  taking  it  off,  if  you  asked  her?" 

Father — "Ah!  {touching  the  owner  of  the  hat  on  the  shoulder). 
Excuse  me,  mmii,  but  might  I  take  the  liberty  of  asking  you  to 
kmdly  remove  your  'at?"  {The  owner  of  the  hat  deigns  no  reply.) 

Father  {more  insistently) — "Would  you  'ave  any  objection  to 
oblige  me  by  taking  off  your  'at,  mum?  {Same  result.)  I  don't 
know  if  you  'eard  me,  mum,  but  I've  asked  you  twice,  civil 
enough,  to  take  that  'at  of  yours  off.  I'm  playin'  'ide-and-seek 
be'ind  it  'ere!"     {No  answer.) 

Mother — "People  didn't  ought  to  be  allowed  in  the  Pit  with 
sech  'ats !  Callin'  'erself  a  lady,  and  settin'  there  in  a  great  'at 
and  feathers  like  a  'igldander's,  and  never  answering  no  more 
nor  a  stuffed  himage !" 

Father  {to  the  husband  of  the  owner  of  the  hat) — "Will  you 
tell  your  good  lady  to  take  her  'at  off,  sir,  please?" 

The  Owner  of  the  Hat  {to  her  husband) — "Don't  you  do 
nothing  of  the  sort,  Sam,  or  you'll  'ear  of  it !" 

Mother — "Some  people  are  perlite,  I  must  say.    Parties  might 


212  HUMOKOUS    HITS 

be'ave  as  ladies  when  they  come  in  the  Pit!  It's  a  pity  her 
'usband   can't  teach   her  better  manners!" 

Father — "  'Im  teach  lier !  'E  knows  better.  'E's  got  a  Tartar 
there,  'e  'as!" 

The  Owner  of  the  Hat — "Sam,  are  you  going  to  set  by  and  hear 
me  insulted  like  this?" 

Her  Husband  {turning  round  tremulously) — "I — I'll  trouble 
you  to  drop  making  these  personal  allusions  to  my  wife's  'at,  sir. 
It's  pufTickly  impossible  to  listen  to  what's  going  on  on  the  stage, 
with  all  these  remarks  be'ind !" 

Father — "Not  more  nor  it  is  to  see  what's  going  on  on  the  stage 
with  that  'at  in  front!  I  paid  'arf-a-erown  to  see  the  Panter- 
mime,  I  did ;  not  to  'ave  a  view  of  your  wife's  'at !  .  .  .  'ere, 
Maria,  blowed  if  I  can  stand  this  'ere  game  any  longer.  Jimmy 
must  change  places  again,  and  if  he  can't  see,  he  must  stand  up 
on  the  seat,  that's  all !"  {Jimmy  goes  back  and  mounts  upon  the 
seat.) 

A  Pit-ite  Behind  Jimmy  {touching  Jimmy's  father  ivith  an 
umbrella) — "Will  you  tell  your  little  boy  to  set  down,  please, 
and  not  to  block  the  view  like  this?" 

Father — "If  you  can  indooce  that  lady  to  take  off  her  'at, 
I  will,  but  not  before.    Stay  where  you  are,  Jimmy." 

The  Pittite  Behind — "Well,  I  must  stand  myself  then,  that's 
all.    I  mean  to  see  somehow!"     {He  rises.) 

People  Behind  {sternly) — "Set  down  there,  will  yer?"  {He 
resumes  his  seat  expostulating.) 

Jimmy — "Father,  the  man  behhid  is  a-[)inching  of  my  legs !" 

Father — "Will  you  stop  pinching  my  little  boy's  legs.  He  ain't 
doing  you  no  'arm,  is  he?" 

The  Pinching  Pit-ite — "Let  him  sit  down,  then!" 

Father— "het  the  lady  take  her  'at  off!" 

Murmurs  Behind — "Order  there !  Set  down !  Put  that  boy 
down!  Take  off  that  'at!  Silence  in  front  there!  Turn  'em 
out !     Shame !  .     .     ." 

The  Husband  of  the  Owner  of  the  Hat  {in  a  whisper  to  his 
wife) — "Take  off  the  blessed  'at,  and  'ave  done  with  it,  do!" 

The  Owner  of  the  Hat — "What,  now'?  I'd  sooner  die  in  the 
'at!"     {An  attendant  is  called.) 


HUMOKOUS    HITS  213 

Attendant — "Order,  there,  gentlemen,  please,  unless  you  want 
to  get  turned  out !  No  standing  allowed  on  the  seats ;  you're 
disturbmg  the  performance  'ere,  you  know !"  {Jimmy  is  made 
to  sit  down,  and  weeps  silently;  the  hubbub  subsides,  and  the 
Owner  of  the  Hat  triumphs.) 

Mother — "Never  mind,  my  boy,  you  shall  have  mother's  seat  in 
a  minute.  I  dessay,  if  all  was  known,  the  lady  'as  reasons  for 
keeping  her  'at  on,  pore  thing!" 

Father — "Ah,  I  never  thought  o'  that.  So  she  may.  Very 
likely  her  'at  won't  come  off — not  without  her  'air!" 

Mother — "Ah,  well,  then  we  mus'n't  be  'ard  on  her." 

The  Owner  of  the  Hat  {removing  the  obstruction) — "I  'ope 
you're  satisfied  now,  I'm  sure?" 

Father  {handsomely) — "Better  late  nor  never,  mum,  and  we 
take  it  kind  of  you.  Tho  why  you  shouldn't  ha'  done  it  at  fust, 
I  dunno ;  for  you  look  a  deal  'ansomer  without  the  'at  than  what 
you  did  in  it — don't  she  Maria?" 

The  Owner  of  the  Hat  {mollified) — "Sam,  ask  the  gentleman 
behind  if  his  boy  would  like  a  ginger-nut."  {This  olive-branch 
is  accepted;  compliments  pass;  cordiality  is  restored,  and  the 
pantomime  then  proceeds  without  any  further  disturbance  in  the 
audience.) 


HULLO 

BY  S.   W.   FOSS 

Wen  you  see  a  man  in  wo, 
"Walk  right  up  an'  say  "Hullo !" 
Say  "Hullo"  an'  "How  d'ye  do? 
How's  the  world  a-usin'  you?" 
Slap  the  fellow  on  the  back; 
Bring  your  hand  down  with  a  whack; 
Walk  right  up,  an'  don't  go  slow; 
Grin  an'  shake,  an'  say  "Hullo!" 


214  HUMOEOUS    HITS 

Is  he  clothed  in  rags?    Oh!  sho; 
Walk  right  up  au'  say  "Hullo!" 
Rags  is  but  a  cotton  roll 
Jest  for  wrappin'  up  a  soul; 
An'  a  soul  is  worth  a  true 
Hale  and  hearty  "How  d'ye  do?" 
Don't  wait  for  the  crowd  to  go 
Walk  right  up  an'  say  "Hullo!" 

When  big  vessels  meet,  they  say 
They  saloot  an'  sail  away. 
Jest  the  same  are  you  an'  me 
Lonesome  ships  upon  a  sea; 
Each  one  sailin'  his  own  log, 
For  a  port  behind  the  fog. 
Let  your  speakin'  trumpet  blow; 
Lift  your  horn  an'  cry  "Hullo !" 

Say  "Hullo!"  an'  "How  d'ye  do?" 

Other  folks  are  good  as  you. 

Wen  you  leave  your  house  of  clay 

Wanderin'  in  the  far  away, 

Wen  you  travel  through  the  strange 

Country  t'other  side  the  range, 

Then  the  souls  you've  cheered  will  know 

Who  ye  be,  an'  say  "Hullo." 


THE  DUTCHMAN'S  TELEPHONE 

ANONYMOUS 

"I  guess  I  haf  to  gif  up  my  delephone  already,"  said  an  old 
citizen,  as  he  entered  the  office  of  the  company  with  a  very 
long  face. 

"Why,  what's  the  matter  now?" 

"Oh!  eferytings.  I  got  dot  delephone  in  mine  house  so  I 
could  shpeak  mit  der  poys  in  der  saloon  down  town,  und  mit 


HUMOROUS    HITS  215 

my  relations  in  Springwells,  but  I  haf  to  gif  it  up.     I  never 
haf  so  much  droubles." 

''How?" 

"Vhell,  my  poy  Shon,  in  der  saloon,  he  rings  der  pell  and  .calls 
me  oop  und  says  an  old  frent  of  mine  vhants  to  see  how  she  vorks. 
Dot  ish  all  right.  I  say,  'Hello!'  und  he  says,  'Come  closer.'  I 
goes  closer  und  helloes  again.  Den  he  says,  'Shtand  a  little 
off.'  I  shtands  a  little  off  und  yells  vunce  more,  mid  he  says, 
'Shpeak  louder.'  I  yells  louder.  I  goes  dot  vhay  for  ten  minutes, 
und  den  he  says,  'Go  to  Texas,  you  old  Dutchman !'    You  see  ?" 

"Yes." 

"Und  den  mein  brudder  in  Springwells  he  rings  der  pell  und 
calls  me  oop  und  says,  'How  you  vhas  dis  eafningsf  I  says  I  vhas 
feeling  like  some  colts,  und  he  says,  'Who  vhants  to  puy  some 
goats f  I  says,  'Colts — colts — colts!'  und  he  answers,  'Oh! 
coats.  I  thought  you  said  goats !'  Vhen  I  goes  to  ask  him  ef  he 
feels  petter  I  hear  a  voice  crying  out,  'Vhat  Dutchman  is  dot  on 
dis  line?'  Den  somepody  answers,  'I  doan'  know,  but  I  likes  to 
punch  his  headt!'    You  see?" 

"Yes." 

"Vhell,  somedimes  my  vhife  vhants  to  shpeak  mit  me  vhen  I 
am  down  in  der  saloon.  She  rings  mein  pell  und  I  says,  'Hello !' 
Nopody  shpeaks  to  me.  She  rings  again,  und  I  says,  'Hello,'  like 
dunder!  Den  der  Central  Office  tells  me  to  go  aheadt,  und  den 
tells  me  holdt  on,  und  den  tells  mein  vhife  dot  I  am  gone  avhay. 
I  yells  oudt,  'Dot  ish  not  so,'  und  somepody  says,  'How  can  I  talk 
if  dot  old  Dutehmans  doan'  keep  shtill?'    You  see?" 

"Yes." 

"Und  vhen  I  gets  in  bedt  at  night,  somepody  rings  der  pell  like 
der  house  vas  on  fire,  und  vhen  I  shumps  oud  und  says,  'Hello,'  I 
hear  somepody  saying,  'Kaiser,  doan'  you  vhant  to  puy  a  dog?' 
I  vhants  no  dog,  und  vhen  I  tells  'em  so,  I  hear  some  peoples 
laughing,  'Haw !  haw !  haw !'    You  see  ?" 

"Yes." 

"Und  so  you  dake  it  oudt,  und  vhen  somepody  likes  to  shpeak 
mit  me  dey  shall  come  right  avay  to  mein  saloon.  Oof  my  brud- 
der ish  sick  he  shall  get  better,  und  if  somepody  vhants  to  puy 
me  a  dog,  he  shall  come  vhere  I  can  punch  him  mit  a  glub." 


216  HUMOROUS    HITS 

HOW  BILL  ADAMS  WON  THE  BATTLE  OF  WATERLOO 

by  g.  ii,  snazelle 

Ladies  and  Gentlemen: 

Last  summer  I  was  touring  in  Kent,  and  came  to  a  small  vil- 
lage of  probably  about  seven  hundred  inhabitants.  Being  a  very- 
hot  day,  I  went  into  the  village  ale-house  to  get  a  glass  of — ginger 
ale.  There  was  no  one  in  the  bar,  but  I  could  hear  a  buzzing 
sound  coming  from  an  apartment  marked  "Tap-room."  The  door 
was  slightly  open,  and  I  peej^ed  in,  and  saw  a  crowd  of  yokels 
sitting  motionless  and  open-mouthed  listening  with  absorbing  in- 
terest to  a  grizzly  old  man,  who  appeared  to  be  relating  some  in- 
tensely exciting  story.  I  went  back  to  the  bar,  and  knocked 
sharply  on  the  counter.  Presently  the  landlord  sauntered  out  of 
the  tap-room,  and  I  mildly  remarked  that  I  had  been  waiting  full 
five  minutes. 

"Very  zorry,  zur,"  said  the  landlord,  "but  you  zee,  zur,  I 
couldn't  get  out  of  the  tap-room  just  then.  The  fact  is,  zur.  Bill 
Adams  is  in  there." 

"How  do  3'ou  mean  you  could  not  get  out?  Was  he  holding 
you?" 

"Noa,  zur,"  answered  the  landlord,  and  then  in  a  tone  of  voice 
implying  the  most  profound  veneration  for  the  person  alluded 
to,  he  added,  "It's  Bill  Adams,  zur;  'ee's  in  the  tap-room,  zur!" 

I  naturally  remarked,  "Well,  and  who  is  Bill  Adams?" 

"Whoi,  'ee  doan't  mean  to  tell  me  that  you've  never  'eerd  o' 
Bill  Adams?" 

I  confest  I  never  had.  Mine  host  favored  me  with  a  stare  of 
undisguised  astonishment  and  incredulity  at  such  lamentable  ig- 
norance, and  burst  out — "Whoi,  Avherever  wos  you  brought  up, 
zur, — in  the  back'oods  of  'Meriky,  or  in  the  bush  in  Australj'? 
Never  'eerd  o'  Bill  Adams !  Well,  you  do  surprize  me,  snre-ly. 
Whoi,  Bill  Adams  is  the  most  celebratedest  mon  in  these  'ere 
parts." 

"Oh,  indeed!"  I  said,  "what  is  he  celebrated  for?  What  did 
he  do?" 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  217 

"Whoi,  zur,  it  wos  Bill  Adams  and  the  Dulce  of  Wellington  as 
■won  the  Battle  of  Worterloo !" 

Here  was  news,  indeed,  to  hear  for  the  first  time  in  an  obscure 
little  village  in  Kent.  And  this  is  what  I  complain  about,  that  all 
our  history  books  at  school,  and  historical  literature  in  the  broader 
arena  of  the  world,  place  before  us  the — until  now — undisputed 
fact  that  the  Duke  of  Wellington  won  that  battle,  and  had  never 
given  poor  old  Bill  Adams  a  chance  of  a  "show." 

I  very  humbh'  apologized  to  the  landlord  for  my  ignorance,  and 
said  that  I  should  be  only  too  happy  to  gain  any  infoi-mation 
about  so  important  an  historical  event  in  the  history  of  the  coun- 

try. 

"Well,  zur,  you're  in  luck's  way;  th'old  gentleman's  in  the  tap- 
room, jest  agoin'  to  tell  the  boys  all  about  it.  'Ee's  jest  told  'em 
what  'ee  did  in  the  Peninsoolar;  'ee  gave  'em  snuff  there;  but 
that's  nothing  to  what  'ee  did  at  Worterloo.  Please  go  in,  zur, 
and  'ear  it;  it'll  supprize  yer." 

AVell,  I  went  in,  and  heard  the  old  gentleman's  yarn,  and  it  cer- 
tainly did  surprize  me. 

Mr.  William  Adams,  after  surveying  me  with  a  semi-mUitary 
critical  eye,  cleared  his  throat  with  a  loud  "Ahem"  or  two,  and 
began  his  tale. 

"Well,  yer  see,  boys,  it  wos  like  this  'ere  at  Worterloo:  There 
wos  me  and  the  Dook  and  the  rest  on  us  a  standin'  there  with  our 
staff.  The  Dook  ony  got  about  a  'undered  men  awailable,  and  when 
'ee  puts  up  'is  hopera  glass  'ee  see  Bonyparty  a  comin'  over  the 
"ill  with  about  four  'undered  thousan'  men — picked  men  they  wos, 
most  on  'em.  Well,  the  Dook  'ee  didn't  like  the  looks  on  it  at 
all;  so  'ee  turns  round  to  Sir  Garnet  Wolseley  and  'ee  sez,  'Gar- 
net,' sez  'ee,  *  'ere's  a  tough  job  as  we  got  cut  out.  Who's  a-goin' 
to  take  this  'eer  job  on?' 

"  'Xot  me,'  sez  Sir  Garnet,  'but  it's  all  right,  guv'nor,'  'ee  sez, 
'  'ere's  Xelson  a-comin'  up.' 

"Well,  just  then  Xelson  comes  a-gallopin'  up  on  'is  white  'orse. 
He  git  off,  a-salutin'  me  and  the  Dook  and  the  rest  on  us,  and  a- 
stickin'  'is  wooden  leg  in  the  sand — yer  know,  boys.  Nelson  had  a 
wooden  leg,  wot  'ee  lost  at — at — -let's  see — ah !  Sringapatam.  The 
Dook  'ee  turn  to  'im  and  'ee  sez,  '  'Oratio,  I'm  in  a  fix,  I've  ony 


ii  n 


218  HUMOEOUS    HITS 

got  about  n  'iinderecl  and  fifty  men  awailable,  and  'ere's  Bony- 
party  a-coniin'  over  the  'ill  with  seven  'undered  and  twenty-eight 
thousau'  men — picked  men,  most  on  'em.  Can  you  take  the  job 
on?' 

"  'No,'  sez  Nelson,  '  'tain't  fair  to  arst  me.  Tain't  in  my  line,' 
sez  'ee.     'Ain't  Garnet  a-goin'  to  do  itf 

'No,'  sez  the  Dook,  'Garnet  won't  touch  it.' 
'Wot  about  yerself,  guv'norf  Nelson  sez. 
'No,'  sez  the  Dook,  'it's  amost  too  much  for  me.' 
'Well,  then,'  sez  Nelson,  'there's  only  one  man  as  I  knows  on 
wot  can  take  this  'ere  job  on.' 

"'Who's  that?'  sez  the  Dook. 

"  'Why,  Bill  Adams,'  sez  Nelson. 

"  'Well,  o'  course,'  sez  the  Dook,  'why,  wot  a  hold  juggins  I 
must  a-bin  not  to  a-thought  o'  Bill!  Course,  Bill's  the  werry  man 
for  the  job !'  and  the  Dook  'ee  whistles  me  up. 

"I  was  jest  down  in  the  canteen  a-havin'  a — half  a  cup  o'  tea, 
and  I  goes  up  and  I  sez,  'Well,  Nosey,  wot's  u));  wot  is  itf  I 
mostly  called  'im  Nosey;  we  wos  werry  familiar,  we  wos,  them 
times. 

"'Well,'  'ee  sez,  'Bill,  I  Avon't  deceive  yer;  I'm  in  a  bit  of  an 
'ole.  I've  only  got  about  a  'undered  and  fifty  men  awailable,  and 
'ere's  Bonyparty  a-comin'  over  the  'ill  with  a  million  o'  men — 
picked  men,  most  on  'em.    Can  you  take  the  job  on?' 

"  'Well,  Harthur,'  I  sez,  'I  think  I  can  pull  yer  through.  How 
mony  men  wos  yer  thinkin'  o'  givin'  mc?' 

"  'Well,'  he  sez,  'take  wot  yer  want,  William.'  W^ell,  I  takes 
about  a  'undered  on  'em.  I  knowed  jest  wot  they  could  do;  and 
we  goes  a-marchin'  up  the  'ill. 

"Jest  as  we  gets  to  the  top,  and  we  wos  a-gettin'  ready  to  wipe 
'em  out,  I  looks  round  the  corner,  and  I  see  Bonyparty  and  Na- 
poleon and  Blucher  a-hidin'  behind  a  tree. 

"Napoleon  and  Bonyparty  wos  a  larfin'  at  our  little  lot;  but 
hold  Blucher  'ee  looks  round  the  other  side  the  tree,  and  when  'ee 
see  me,  'ce  turns  white  as  a  sheet.  Then  'ee  sez  to  Bonyparty  and 
Napoleon,  'You're  a-larfin'  at  'em,  gentlemen,  ain't  yer,  but,'  sez 
'ee,  'do  yer  see  who's  a-leadin'  these  'ere  men  ?' 

"'No,'  sez  Bonyparty,  'can't  say  as  I  knows  'im.     Who  is  it?' 


HUMOROUS    HITS  219 

"  'Well/  sez  Blucher,  'doan't  yer  go  and  do  nothin'  rash.  That's 
Bill  Adams !  ! ' 

'^'What!  !'  sez  Bonyparty,  'is  that  Bill  a-leadiu'  on  'em?' 

"  'It  is,'  sez  Blucher. 

<<  'Why,  good  grashus,'  sez  Bony,  'so  it  is.  It's  old  Bill  Adams, 
wot  gave  me  such  pepper  at  Balaclava.' 

"Then  'ee  turns  round  to  'is  army,  and  'ee  shouts  out : 

"  'Right  about  turn ;  there  won't  be  no  fight.  Get  off  the  grass, 
if  yer  doan't  all  want  to  be  eat  up.    'Ere's  Bill  Adams  a-comin' !' 

"Well  that's  the  way  me  and  the  Dook  of  Wellington  won  the 
Battle  of  Worterloo,  boys." 


THE  RULING  PASSION 


BY   WILLIAM   H.    SIVITER 


She  had  never  mailed  a  letter  before,  and  so  she  approached  the 
stamp  clerk's  window  with  the  same  air  that  she  would  enter  a 
dry-goods  store. 

"I  would  like  to  look  at  some  stamps,  please." 

"What  denomination  do  you  want?" 

"Denomination  ?" 

"Yes.    Is  it  for  a  letter  or  a  newspaper?" 

"Oh,  I  want  to  send  a  letter  to  my  Uncle  John ;  he's  just  moved 

to " 

"Then  you  need  a  two-cent  stamp,"  said  the  clerk  offering  her 
one  of  that  value. 

"I  hardly  like  that  color !" 

"That  is  a  two-cent  stamp,  madam.  Please  stand  aside,  and  let 
the  gentleman  behind  you  come  up." 

"But  haven't  you  got  them  in  any  other  color?  I  never  did 
like  that  shade  of  red." 

"There  is  only  one  color." 

"That  is  strange.  I'd  think  you'd  keep  them  in  different 
shades,  so  that  there'd  be  some  choice.     You  are  sure  you  have 


220  HUMOROUS  HITS 

none  in  a  brighter  red,  or  even  in  a  different  color — Nile  green, 
or  seal  brown,  or  jubilee  blue,  for  instance f 

"You  can  put  two  one-cent  stamps  on  your  letter  if  you  like." 

"Let  me  see  them,  please.  Ah,  that  will  do.  I  like  that  shade 
so  much  better.    I'll  take  only  one,  if  you  please." 

"If  it's  for  a  letter  you'll  need  two.  These  are  one-cent  stamps 
and  letter  postage  is  two  cents  per  ounce." 

"Oh,  I  don't  want  to  put  two  stamps  on  my  letter;  I  don't 
think  they  will  look  well." 

"It  requires  two  cents  to  carry  a  letter,  madam,  and  you  must 
either  put  a  two-cent  stamp  on  or  two  ones.  It  won't  go  without 
I  must  ask  you  to  please  hurry,  for  you  ai-e  keeping  a  great  many 
people  away  from  the  window." 

"That's  singular.  I  don't  like  the  looks  of  two  together.  You 
are  sure  the  other  doesn't  come  in  seal-brown,  or " 

"No,  madam;  no!" 

"Then  I'll  have  to  see  if  I  can  suit  myself  elsewhere." 

And  she  departed. 


THE  DUTCHMAN'S  SERENADE 

ANONYMOUS 

Vake  up,  my  schveet !  Vake  up,  my  lof e ! 
Der  moon  dot  can't  be  seen  abofe. 
Vake  oud  your  eyes,  and  dough  it's  late, 
I'll  make  you  oud  a  serenate. 

Der  shtreet  dot's  kinder  dampy  vet, 
Und  dhere  vas  no  goot  blace  to  set ; 
My  fiddle's  getting  oud  of  dune, 
So  blease  get  vakey  wery  soon. 

0  my  lofe !  my  lofely  lofe ! 
Am  you  avake  up  dere  abofe, 
Feeling  sad  and  nice  to  hear 
Schneider's  fiddle  shcrabin'  near? 


HUMOROUS  HITS  221 

Veil,  anyvay,  obe  loose  your  ear, 
Und  try  to  saw  of  you  kin  hear 
From  dein  bedelose  vat  you'm  among, 
Der  little  song  I'm  going  to  sung. 

Oh,  lady,  vake !  Get  vake ! 

Und  hear  der  tale  I'll  tell; 
Oh,  you  vot's  schleebin'  sound  ub  dhere, 

I  like  you  pooty  veil ! 

Your  plack  eyes  dhem  don't  shine 

Ven  you'm  ashleep — so  vake  ! 
(Yes,  hurry  ub  und  voke  up  quick, 

For  goodness  cracious  sake ! ) 

My  schveet  inbatience,  lof e ! 

I  hobe  you  vill  oxcuse ; 
I'm  singing  schveetly  (dere,  py  Jinks! 

Dhere  goes  a  shtring  proke  loose !) 

Oh,  putif ul,  schveet  maid ! 

Oh,  vill  she  ever  voke? 
Der  moon  is  mooning — (Jimminy!  dhere 

Anoder  shtring  vent  proke ! ) 


Oh,  say,  old  schleeby  head ! 

(Now  I  vas  gitting  mad — 
I'll  holler  now  und  I  don't  care 

Uf  I  vake  up  her  dad !) 

I  say,  you  schleeby,  vake ! 

Vake  out !  Vake  loose !  Vake  ub ! 
Fire !    Murder !  Police !  Vatch ! 

Oh,  cracious!  do  vake  ub! 


222  HUMOROUS  HITS 

Dot  girl  she  schleebed — dot  rain  it  rained 
Und  I  looked  slitoopid  like  a  geese,    " 

Vhen  mit  my  fiddle  I  sneaked  off 
Dodging  der  rain  und  dot  bolice ! 


WIDOW  MALONE 


BY   CHARLES   LEVER 


Did  you  hear  of  the  Widow  Malone, 

Ohone ! 
Who  lived  in  the  town  of  Atblone, 

Alone ! 
Oh,  she  melted  the  hearts 
Of  the  swains  in  those  parts : 
So  lovely  the  Widow  Malone, 

Ohone ! 
So  lovely  the  Widow  Malone. 


Of  lovers  she  had  a  full  score, 

Or  more, 
And  fortunes  they  all  had  galoi-e; 

In  store; 
From  the  minister  down 
To  the  clerk  of  the  Crown 
All  were  courting  the  Widow  Malone, 

Ohone ! 
All  were  courting  the  Widow  Malone. 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  223 

But  so  modest  was  Mistress  Malone, 

'Twas  known 
That  no  one  could  see  her  alone, 

Ohone ! 
Let  them  ogle  and  sigh, 
They  could  ne'er  catch  her  eye, 
So  bashful  the  Widow  Malone, 

Ohone ! 
So  bashful  the  "Widow  Malone. 

Till  one  Misther  O'Brien,  from  Clare, 

(How  quare! 
It's  little  for  blushing  they  care 

Down  there.) 
Put  his  arm  round  her  waist, 
Gave  ten  kisses  at  laste, 
*'0h,"  says  he,  "you're  my  Molly  Malone, 

My  own!" 
"Oh,"  says  he,  "you're  my  Molly  Malone!" 

And  the  widow  they  all  thought  so  shy, 

My  eye ! 
Ne'er  thought  of  a  simper  or  sigh, — 

For  why? 
But,  "Lucius,"  says  she, 
"Since  you've  now  made   so   free, 
You  may  marry  your  Mary  Malone, 

Ohone ! 
You  may  marry  your  Mary  Malone." 

There's  a  moral  contained  in  my  song. 

Not  wrong; 
And  one  comfort,  it's  not  very  long. 

But  strong, — 
If  for  widows  you  die, 
Learn  to  kiss,  not  to  sigh ; 
For  they're  all  like  sweet  Mistress  Malone, 

Ohone ! 
Oh,  they're  all  like  sweet  Mistress  Malone ! 


224  HUMOEOUS   HITS 


HIS  LEG  SHOT  OFF 

ANONYMOUS 

You  have  all  met  him.  He  is  the  man  with  the  funny  story. 
As  a  listener  he  would  be  popular.  If  he  would  only  keep  quiet 
and  listen  to  other  people  tell  stories  without  attempting  to  emu- 
late their  ability  he  would  be  liked  where  he  is  now  cordially  dis- 
liked. But  that  doesn't  suit  his  temperament.  He  will  buttonhole 
you  with  his  forefinger,  and  with  an  idiotic  smile  on  his  face  say. 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!  ha!  If  I  didn't  just  hear  the  funniest  thing! 
Oh,  but  it  was  funny!  Ha!  ha!  ha!  You  don't  begin  to  know 
how  funny  it  was!  You  see  it  was  this  way:  A  long  time  ago 
there  was  a  war, — fighting, — fighting,  you  knoAv, — between  the 
North  and  South.  Ha !  ha !  ha !  There  was  a  war,  as  I  was  say- 
ing, and  they  got  fighting,  and  this  man, — ha!  ha!  ha! — the  fun- 
niest thing! — this  man,  Jkn  Jones, — you  see  it  was  this  way, — it 
was  in  the  war-  you  know, — between  the  North  and  South, — ha! 
ha! — and  this  man  Jim  Jones, — ha!  ha!  ha! — it  is  too  funny  for 
any  thing. — it  was  too  funny!  Well,  Jim  Jones  was  fighting. 
He  went  into  the  battle  one  day,  and  that  is  the  funny  part  of 
it.  Along  came  a  cannon-ball  and  took  off  his  head !  Ha !  ha !  ha ! 
{Laugh  here  for  two  minutes;  then  the  face  gradually  assumes 
an  air  of  gravity.)  No,  it  wasn't  his  head,  it  was  his  leg.  It  was 
funny  just  the  same.  Down  he  went  to  the  ground.  It  stands 
to  reason  a  man  with  one  leg  can't  walk  and  go  on  fighting.  So 
he  just  laid  down  in  his  tracks.  Couldn't  do  anything  else.  Just 
then  along  came  a  battery, — you  know  that  is  cannons, — they 
have  horses  to  drag  them, — men  can't  i)ull  those  big,  heavy  can- 
nons hito  battle.  Well,  you  know,  this  man  Jim  Jones  that  had  his 
leg  shot  off,  he  knew  this  man  with  the  cannons, — ha!  ha! — Oh, 
but  it  was  funny!  And  he  says  to  him,  'If  you  don't  carry  me 
to  where  a  doctor  is,  uiy  wife's  a  widow,  that's  all  about  it!'  He 
knew  his  wife  was  a  widow  if  he  didn't  get  to  where  the  doctor 
was.  You  know  the  doctors  don't  stay  up  wliere  the  soldiers  are 
fighting  in  a  battle, — they're  back,  away  back,  the  doctors  are. 
So  this  man  with  his  leg  shot  off,  he  says,  'You've  got  to  take  me 


HUMOROUS    HITS  225 

where  a  doctor  is,  or  my  wife's  a  widow,  that's  all  about  it  V  Well, 
this  neighbor  of  his  didn't  like  to  go  back  on  an  old  friend, — 
ha!  ha! — with  his  leg  shot  off, — this  man  that  had  his  leg  shot 
off  early  in  the  battle  and  couldn't  go  on  fightmg, — ^but  he  says 
to  him:  'How  am  I  to  get  you  back  there f  and  he  'lowed  he'd 
have  to  carry  him.  Well,  with  that  he  shouldered  Jim  Jones, — 
ha!  ha! — threw  him  over  his  shoulder  just  like  that,  and  away 
they  went!  {Laugh  heartily  here.)  And  that  is  where  the  joke 
came  in, — along  came  a  cannon-ball  and  took  of  his  head !  Not 
the  man's  head,  but  Jimmy  Jones'  head!  But  pshaw,  the  man 
didn't  know  anything  about  it.  Along  he  went  with  Jimmy  over 
his  shoulder.  Just  then  an  oflScer  came  up.  He  says:  'Where 
are  you  going  with  that  thing  f  Well,  the  man  didn't  like  to  give 
a  short  answer.  Soldiers  are  not  allowed  to  give  short  answers 
to  officers.  He  suiiply  saluted  and  says:  'Well,  it's  this  way: 
This  man's  an  old  neighbor  of  mme.  He  was  coming  into  battle, 
— ha!  ha! — and  he  'lowed  that  a  cannon-ball  came  along  and 
took  off  his  leg.  He  says  if  we  don't  take  him  to  where  a  doctor 
is  his  wife's  a  wudow  and  that's  all  about  it, — and  so, — ha  !  ha  !— 
and  so  I'm  just  taking  him  back  to  where  the  doctor  is,  captain.' 
The  captain  looked  at  him  a  moment,  and  he  says:  'Why  you 
idiot,  it  isn't  his  leg,  it's  his  head!'  Then  the  man  says. — not 
Jimmy  Jones, — he  had  his  head  off  and  couldn't  say  anytl;ing, — 
'Oh,  the  confounded  rascal,  he  told  me  it  was  iiis  leg !'  " 


THE  STUTTERING  UMPIRE 

BY  THK  KHAN 

Oh,  we  had  our  share  of  trouble, 

I'll  tell  you  now  the  source, 
The   umpire   that   we   sent    for. 

Well,  he  didn't  come,  of  course. 
Have  you  noticed,  at  the  line-up 

When  evei-ything's  for  fair. 
The  i-eferee,  the  mnpire. 

That  should  be  there,  isn't  there? 


226  UUMOROUS    HITS 

The  oi'owd  it  grew  impatient; 
^Ve  heard  their  angry  mutters. 

We  picked  on  Johnny  Jinison, 
Tho  Johnny  Jimson  stuttei-s; 

But,  still,  he  knows  the  game  all  right- 
Indeed,  he  knows  it  all — ■ 

So   in   his   place   he   hollered : 
"Pup-pup-pup-play  bub-ball !" 


Jake  Mingus  was  first  battel", 

Our  county's  favorite  son; 
He  hit  an'  missed.     Johnny  yelled: 

"Stuh-stuh-stuh-strike  wu-one !" 
Another  ball  went  o'er  the  plate, 

And  Jakey's  bat  went  whoo ! 
Then  all  the  crowd  heard  Johnny  shout: 

"Tut-tut-tut-tut-tut-two !" 


The  next  one  was  a  daisy, 
It  made  the  audience  howl; 
Jakey  tapped  it,  Johnny  yelled: 

"Fow-ow-ow-ow-oul !" 
And  so  the  game  went  gaily, 

A  game  a  body  likes. 
Till  Jack  had  called  three  balls  on  Jake 

And  also  called  two  strikes. 


The  breathless  crowd  was  anxious, 

For  this  will  tell  the  tale; 
The  pitcher  tied  himself  in  knots. 

The  catcher   did   not   quail. 
"Whizz!  went  the  ball — the  rabble  waits 

The  umpire's  verdict,  but 
All   that   Johnny   Jimson   said 

Was  "Tut-tut-tut " 


HUMOKOUS    HITS  227 

Did  he  mean  to  say,  "Tut-tut-take  your  base," 

Or  else,  "Tut-tut-three  strikes?" 
Just  fix  it  up  to  suit  yourself 

As  anybody  likes, 
It  busted  up  our  little  game, 

It  was  too  utterly  utter. 
Don't  try  to  be  an  umpire  if 

You  stut-tut-tut-tutter. 


THE  MAN  WHO  WILL  MAKE  A  SPEECH 

ANONYMOUS 

A  man  wearing  passably  good  clothes  and  a  look  of  mental 
anxiety  entered  a  fashionable  drug-store,  and  said  to  the  clerk : 

"Are  you  pretty  well  posted  on  big  words'?" 

"Yes,"  said  the  clerk,  "I  know  quite  a  large  number  of  big 
words." 

"Well,  then,"  said  the  stranger,  "here's  the  situation:  Out 
where  I  live  I  am  a  pretty  big  gun,  and  when  anything  is  going 
on  they  call  on  me  for  a  speech.  I  made  one  on  election  day, 
another  the  same  evening,  and  another  the  next  morning,  and 
now  I'm  laying  the  sleepers  for  a  speech  to  eclipse  them  all." 

"What  sort  of  a  speech?"  asked  the  clerk. 

"Political,  of  course.  My  other  speeches  were  political,  but 
were  very  plain.  This  time  I  want  to  get  in  some  regular  old 
twisters.  For  one  thing  I  would  declare  this  country  in  a  state 
of — ^what  do  you  call  it?" 

"Peace !" 

"No,  sir;  I  mean  confusion,  excitement,  and  so  on.  There's 
a  word  to  signify  it,  but  I  can't  speak  it." 

"Abject  terrorism  V 

"No — no.     Its  archany,  or  something  of  the  kind." 

"I  guess  you  mean  anarchy,  don't  you?" 

"I  do — I  do !  Bless  me  if  I  haven't  been  ti-ying  for  a  whole 
hour  to  get  that  word!    That's  the  very  thing.    When  called  out 


228  HUMOROUS    HITS 

1  want  to  lead  off  with :  'Fellow  citizens,  the  peace  has  flown, 
and  arnica  reigns  supreme !'    I  guess  that  will  knock  them." 

"You  don't  mean  arnica — j'ou  mean  anarchy." 

"That's  what  I  mean,  of  course,  but  every  time  I  think  anarchy 
I  get  it  arnica,  and  I  don't  know  but  I  will  have  to  give  up  the 
speech." 

"Why  don't  you  write  it  down?" 

The  man  took  up  a  pen  and  wrote :  "A-r-k-a-n-y,"  Then  he 
said :  "Peace  has  fled  and  arkanj^  reigns  in  the  land." 

"I  told  you  it  Avas  anarchy." 

"That's  so — that's  so.  This  suspense  is  telling  on  my  memory 
like  a  fit  of  illness.  Now,  then,  a-n-a-r-k-y,  anai'ky,  and  don't 
you  forget  it.  You  needn't  say  anything  about  my  calling  in 
here." 

"Oh,  that's  all  right.  Over  seven-eighths  of  the  best  speakers 
in  toAvn  come  to  me  for  big  words." 

"Many  thanks;  and  now,  'Fellow  citizens,  peace  has  fled  far, 

far  away,   and   arkany  reigns '   Hold  on,   is   that   the   right 

word?" 

He  halted  at  the  door  to  examine  the  slip  of  paper,  and  after 
repeating  the  right  word  over  several  times  he  went  on: 

"A  state  of  anchovy  is  upon  us,  and  where  Avill  it  end?" 

As  he  walked  up  the  street  he  was  overheard  to  say : 

"Arnica!  Arnica!  where  Avill  it  end?" 


X  CARLOTTA  MIA 

BY  T.  A.  DALY 

Giuseppe,  da  Barber,  ees  great  for  "mash," 

He  gotta  da  bigga,  da  blacka  mustache. 

Good  clo'es  an'  good  styla  an'  playnta  good  cash. 

Wenever  Giuseppe  ees  walk  on  da  street, 
Da  people  dey  talka  "How  nobby!     Hoav  neat! 
HoAv  softa  da  handa,  haw  smalla  da  feet." 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  229 

He  raisa  hees  hat,  an'  he  shaka  hees  curls, 
An'  smila  weeth  teetha  so  shiny  like  pearls; 
Oh,  many  da  heart  of  da  silly  young  girls 

He  gotta. 

Yes  playnta  he  gotta — 

But  notta — 

Carlotta ! 

Giuseppe,  da  Barber,  he  maka  da  eye, 
An'  lika  da  steam-engine  puff  a  an'  sigh 
For  catcha  Carlotta  w'en  she  ees  go  by. 

Carlotta  she  walka  weeth  her  nose  in  da  air. 
An'  look  through  Giuseppe  weeth  far-away  stare, 
As  eef  she  no  see  dere  ees  som'body  dere. 

Giuseppe,  da  Barber,  he  gotta  da  cash, 
He  gotta  da  clo'es  an'  da  bigga  mustache. 
He  gotta  da  silly  young  girls  for  da  "mash." 

But  notta — 

You  bat  my  life,  notta — 

Carlotta ; 

I  gotta! 


THE  VASSAR  GIRL 

BY  WALLACE   IRWIN 

"Oh,  Martha's  back  from  Vassar," 
Said  farmer  James  McCassar: 
"0  Martha,  come  into  the  house  and  mix 
a  batch  of  bread." 

But  Martha's  accents  fluttered 

As  she  murmured,  as  she  stuttered, 

"I  have  studied  the;  satanie 

Ways  of  bacilli  organic, 
And  it  throws  me  in  a  panic,  pa,  to  mix 
a  batch  of  bread." 


230  HUMOKOUS   HITS 

Chorus 

At  Vassar-ob,  at  Vassar-oh, 

That's  what  we  learn  at  Vassar ! 
We  love  our  Alma  ]Maler  so 

We  do  not  like  to  sass  'er. 
We  have  a  superstition 

There's  nothing  like  the  damsel  with 
the  dear  old  Vassar  V. 

''Oh,  Martha's  back  from  Vassar," 
Said  farmer  James  McCassar: 
*'0  Martha,  go  out  to  the  barn  and  milk 
the  brindle  cow." 
But  Martha  cried:  ''Oh,  bother!" 
As  she  faced  her  poor  old  father, 
"With  golf  I  love  to  tussle 
And  with  basket-ball  to  hustle — 
But  I  haven't  got  the  muscle  to  subdue 
the  brindle  cow." 

Chorus 

At  Vassar-oh,  at  Vassar-oh, 

That's  what  we  learn  at  Vassar  1 
We  love  our  Ahaa  Mater  so 

We  do  not  like  to  sass  'er. 
We  have  a  superstition 

There's  nothing  like  the  damsel   with 
the  dear  old  Vassar  V. 

"Oh,  Martha's  home  from  Vassar!" 
Cried  tlie  angry  James  McCassar: 
"0   Martha,    take   yer   study-books   and 
don't  come  home  no  more !" 
So  the  maiden  in  contrition 
Got  a  typist-girl's  position, 
Wed  a  millionaire  named  Harris 
Who,  lest  poverty  embarrass, 
Made  his  wife  a  millionairess.    And  she's 
ne'er  been  heard  of  more. 


HUMOROUS    HITS  231 

Chorus 

At  Vassar-oh,  at  Vassar-oli, 

That's  what  we  learn  at  Vassar! 
We  love  our  Alma  Mater  so 

We  do  not  like  to  sass  'er. 
Learning's  road  is  rough  and  stony; 
But  for  golden  matrimony 

There's  nothing  like  the  maiden  with 
the  dear  old  Vassar  V. 

From  "Shame  of  the  Colleges,"  Outing  Publishing  Co.,  by  permission. 


A  SHORT  SERMON 

ANONYMOUS 

{Delivered  in  usual  singsong  style  of  the  conventional  curate.) 
I  am  going  to  preach  to  you  this  morning,  my  friends,  upon 
the  young  man  who  was  sick  of  the  palsy.  Now,  this  young  man 
was  sick  of  the  palsy.  The  palsy,  as  you  are  all  aware,  is  a  very 
terrible  disease,  a  wasting  scourge.  And  this  young  man  was 
sick  of  the  palsy.  And  the  palsy,  as  you  know,  is  strongly 
hereditary.  It  had  been  m  his  family.  His  father  had  been  sick 
of  the  palsy,  and  his  mother  had  been  sick  of  the  palsy,  and  they 
had  all  of  them,  in  fact,  been  sick  of  the  palsy.  And  this  young 
man  had  been  sick  of  the  palsy.  Yes,  my  dear  friends,  he  had  had 
it  for  years  and  years,  and — he  was  sick  of  it. 


232  HUMOROUS    UITS 

A  LANCASHIRE  DIALECTIC  SKETCH 
(Tummy  and  Meary) 

ANONYMOUS 

Tummy  and  Meary  wor  bani  to  be  wed,  tha  knaws.  And  th' 
neet  afoor  they  were  to  be  wed,  Tummy  he  goes  to  Meary,  and  he 
says,  "Meary,  lass,"  he  says,  "I'se  noonan  barn  to  wed  tha." 
"Oo  isn't?"  hoo  says,  "Nooa,"  says  Tummy,  "I  isn't.  I'se 
chaanged  my  mind."  "Why,  tha  greeat  thick-heetid,"  hoo  says, 
"tha's  aUus  a-chaangin'  thy  mind."  "Ah,  weel,"  say  Tummy, 
"I  ha'  chaanged  my  mind,  and  that's  enough  for  thee."  Weel, 
tha  knaws  Meary  didn't  want  for  to  loose  Tummy,  for  she  didn't 
knaw  where  she'd  pick  up  another  as  good.  Soa  she  tried  all 
sooarts  of  waays  for  keepin'  him  on.  First  hood  tried  carneyin' 
an'  eooaxin'  of  him,  and  when  she  found  as  cooaxin'  weren't  o' 
noa  use  hoo  tried  bully-raggin'  him,  and  when  she  found  as  bully- 
raggin'  weren't  o'  noa  use,  she  tried  stratagem — and  that's  a 
woman's  last  resource! 

"Tummy,"  hoo  says,  "tho  tha's  a'  love  for  me,  I  still  ha'  a 
gradely  liking  for  thee,  lad.  And,  tha  sees,  if  tha  gies  me  up, 
folks  '11  lay  a'  blame  upo'  thee.  Noo,  I'll  tell  tha  what  tha  num 
do.  Tha  mull  gooa  to  th'  church  wi'  me  i'  th'  mornin',  and  when 
the  parson  says  to  thee,  'Wilt  tha  ha'  Meaiy  for  to  be  thy  wedded 
wife?'  tha  mun  say,  'Yes,  I  will.'  And  when  th'  parson  says  to 
me,  'Meary,  lass,  Avill  tha  ha'  Tunmiy  for  to  be  thy  wedded  hus- 
band?' I'll  say,  'Noa,  I  weean't.'  And  then  tha'll  get  off  scot-free, 
tha  seeas,  and  th'  folk'll  lay  a'  th'  blame  upo'  me."  Weel,  Tummy, 
he  were  a  coward  at  heart,  and  he  didn't  want  Meary  for  to  gooa 
aboot  sayin'  nasty  things  aboot  him,  and  so  he  went — poor  lad! 
And  when  they'd  getten  to'  th'  church  i'  th'  mornin',  parson  he 
says  to  Tummy,  "Tummy,"  he  says,  "wilt  thou  have  Meary  for 
to  be  thy  wedded  wife?"  And  Tummy,  he  speaks  oot  bold-like, 
"Aw!  Ah  will!"  And  soona  then  th'  parson  he  turns  to  Meary, 
and  he  says,  "Meary,  lass,  Avilt  thou  have  Tummy  for  to  be  thy 
wedded  husband?"     And  Meaiy  shoo  up  and  shoo  says,  "Aw! 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  233 

Ah  will!"  Tummy  says,  "Nay,  nay;  that  wmnot  dew.  Tha  was 
to  say  as  tha  wouldn't."  "Aye,  but,"  says  Meary,  "there's  others 
can  chaange  their  miuds,  Tummy,  as  weel  as  thee!"  Sooa  hoo 
gat  him! 


HIS  BLACKSTONIAN  CIRCUMLOCUTION 

ANONYMOUS 

"I  received,  this  afternoon,"  said  the  bright-eyed,  common-sense 
gii'l,  the  while  a  slight  blush  of  maidenly  coyness  tinted  her  peach- 
hued  cheeks,  "a  written  proposal  of  marriage  from  Horace  J. 
Pokelong,  the  rising  young  attorney,  and " 

"Huh !  that  petrified  dub !"  jealously  ejaculated  the  young  dry- 
goods  dealer,  who  had  been  hanging  back  because  of  his  timidity 
and  excessive  adoration. 

"He  says,"  proceeded  the  maiden,  gently  ignoring  the  interrup- 
tion, and  reading  aloud  from  the  mterestmg  document,  "  'I  have 
carefully  and  comprehensively  analyzed  my  feelings  toward  you, 
and  the  result  is  substantially  as  follows,  to  wit:  I  respect,  ad- 
mire, adore  and  love  you,  and  hereby  give,  grant  and  convey  to 
you  my  heart  and  all  my  interest,  right  and  title  in  and  to  the 
same,  together  with  all  my  possessions  and  emoluments,  either 
won,  inherited  or  in  any  other  manner  acquired,  gained,  antici- 
pated or  expected,  with  full  and  complete  power  to  use,  expend, 
utilize,  give  away,  bestow  or  otherwise  make  use  of  the  same, 
anything  heretofore  stated,  exprest,  implied  or  understood,  in  or 
by  my  previous  condition,  standmg,  walk,  attitude  or  actions,  to 
the  contrary  notwithstanding ;  and  I  f urthennore '  " 

"I — I !"  fairly  shouted  the  listener,  springing  to  his  feet, 

and  extending  his  arms.  "Miss  Brisk — Maud — I  love  you!  Will 
you  many  me?" 

"Yes,  I  will !"  promptly  answered  the  lass,  as  she  contentedly 
snuggled  up  in  his  encircling  embrace.  "And  I'll  reply  to  the 
ponderous  appeal  of  that  pedantic  procrastinator  with  the  one 
expressive  slangism,  'Twenty-three !'     I  am  yours,  Clarence !" 


234  HUMOROUS   HITS 

KATRINA  LIKES  ME  POODY  VELL 

ANONYMOUS 

Somedimes  ven  I'm  a-feelint''  bad, 

Cause  dini>s  dey  dou'd  go  rij^lid, 
I  gid  so  kinder  awful  sick, 

Und  lose  my  abbedide. 
Und  ven  I  go  me  to  der  house, 

Und  by  dot  daple  sit, 
Dot  widdles  makes  me  feel  gwide  bale, 

Und  I  don'd  kin  ead  a  bit. 

^  My  bead  dot  shbind  arount  unt  rount, 

Und  my  eyes  dem  look  so  vild, 
Dot  of  my  mudder  she  was  deie, 

She'voodn't  know  her  shild. 
Dot  is  der  dime  Katrina  comes, 

Und  nice  vords  she  does  dell, 
Mit  her  heart  a-busdmg  oud  mit  loaf, 

For  she  likes  me  poody  veil. 

She  gifes  me  efery  kind  of  dings 

Dot  she  dinks  will  done  me  goot; 
She  cooks  me  shblendid  sassage  mead, 

Und  Oder  kinds  of  foot; 
She  ties  vet  rags  arount  my  bead 

When  dot  begins  to  sbvell, 
Und  soaks  my  feet  mit  Brandred's  bills. 

For  she  likes  me  poody  veil. 

She  sings  me  nice  und  poody  songs, 

Mit  a  woice  dot's  shweed  und  glear, 
Und  says,  "Dot  of  I  vas  to  die 

She  voodn't  leef  a  year." 
Of  dot  aind  so,  or  if  id  is, 

I  don'd  vas  going  to  dell ; 
But  dis  much  I  am  villing  to  sbwore — 

She  lilces  me  poody  veil. 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  235 

AT  THE  RESTAURANT 

ANONYMOUS 

Waiter— "Well,  ladies,  what  will  it  be?" 

Mrs.  Etamine — "I  don't  know  what  you  girls  are  going  to  take, 

but  I  can't  eat  a  thing — unless  it's  ice-cream." 

Miss  De  Beige — "I'm  sure  I  don't  want  anything  except  cream. 

I  never  can  eat  in  this  hot  weather." 

3Iiss  Satine — "I'd  like  some  ice-cream,  if  they've  got  any  real 

pistaehe." 

Miss  Foulard — "Oh,  I  wouldn't  trust  them  to  give  me  pistaehe 

here!    I  don't  believe  they  know  what  pistaehe  is.     I'm  going  to 

take  chocolate." 

Mrs.  E. — "I'd  take  chocolate,  too,  only  it's  so  heavy  all  by  it- 
self." 

Miss  De  B. — "Why  don't  you  take  it  with  strawberry?" 

Mrs.  E. — "Oh,  I  don't  think  strawberry  and  chocolate  go  well 

together!    The  contrast  is  too  striking,  don't  you  think?" 
Miss  De  B. — "Well,  perhaps  it  is  a  little — loud." 
Miss  F. — "Lemon  and  chocolate  are  awfully  nice." 
Miss  S. — "But   there's    something   about    pistaehe,    don't   you 

know,  so  delicate." 

Miss  F. — "I'm  sure  lemon  is  delicate.     You  can't  taste  any 

flavor  at  all,  the  way  they  make  it  at  most  places." 
Miss  S. — "But  j)istache  is  so  refined,  don't  you  know." 
Mrs.  E. — "Dear  me,  here's  this  man  standing  by  waiting — it's 

perfectly  horrid  to  have  him  looming  over  us  like  a  ghost  or 

something.    Do  let's  give  our  orders  and  get  him  away !" 
Miss  De  B. — "Well,  what  are  you  going  to  order?" 
Mrs.  E. — "Why,  I  told  you — chocolate  and  lemon." 
Miss  F. — "No ;  that  was  what  I  ordered,  wasn't  it  ?" 
Mrs.  E. — "Why,  so  it  was !     Chocolate  and  strawberry  I  meant. 

Some  people  think  that's  too  heavy — too  cloying,  you  know — but 

I  think  it's  about  as  good  as  anything." 

Miss  De  5.— "Well,  I  think  I'll  take  that,  too.    I  don't  know, 

tho.    Lemon  is  awfully  good.     I  know  a  lady  up  in  the  Catskills 

— she  had  the  loveliest  little  boy,  just  six  years  old,  with  curly  hair 

By  permission  of  Puck.  New  York 


23G  HUMOEOUS    HITS 

that  hung  ever  so  far  down  his  back,  and  he  used  to  come  to 
me  every  morning'  and  ask  for  candy  in  (he  prettiest  way — jnst 
like  a  little  dog,  and  he  learned  it  all  himself — his  mother  told  me 
nobody  taught  him — tho  I've  always  believed  that  that  child  never 
could  have  originated  the  idea  all  by  himself " 

Mrs.  E. — "Excuse  me,  Clara,  but  the  man  is  waiting." 

Miss  De  B. — ''As  I  was  sailing,  she  was  poisoned  by  eating  lemon 
ice-cream;  but  I  believe  they  found  out  afterward  that  some  one 
put  the  rat-poison  in  the  freezer  by  mistake — I  beg  your  pardon, 
Mrs.  Etamine;  I  didn't  know  you  were  speaking — oh,  yes — straw- 
berry ice-cream,  waiter,  and  a  fork,  if  you  please — don't  bring  me 
a  spoon — I  don't  want  it." 

Miss  6'.— "Well,  if  I  can't  have  pistache " 

Miss  F. — "You  can't— I'm  sure  they  haven't  got  it  here.  I'll 
take — let  me  see — some  chocolate,  I  guess.  Is  your  chocolate 
good,  waiter?" 

Miss  S. — "Oh,  it's  sure  to  be  good — they  never  give  you  bad 
chocolate.  Well,  I  did  w^ant  pistache;  but  I  think  I'll  take  lemon. 
Some  lemon  ice-cream,  waiter — lemon  flavor — and  don't  bring  it 
in  half  melted." 

Mrs.  E.  {impressively) — "Some  chocolate  and  strawberiy  ice- 
cream, Avaitcr,  mixed.  And  a  spoon.  Do  ydu  miderstand  me, 
waiter?    A  spoon.    Not  a  fork." 

Miss  F. — "Chocolate  ice-cream — don't  forget !" 

Miss  S. — "Lemon  ice-cream !" 

Miss  De  5.— "Strawberry— and  a  foik !" 

Mrs.  E. — "Chocolate  and  strawberry — spoon,  of  course,  waiter. 
I  suppose  you  know  that." 

Waiter — "Ice-cream?  Yes,  ma'am.  We  ain't  got  nothin'  only 
verniller,  ma'am.  Yaas'm — all  out  of  everythin'  only  verniller. 
What'll  it  be,  ladies?" 


HUMOKOUS    HITS  237 

A-FEARED  OF  A  GAL 

ANONYMOUS 

Oh,  darn  it  all !  a- feared  of  her, 

And  such  a  mite  of  a  gal; 
Why,  two  of  her  size  rolled  into  one 

Won't  ditto  Sister  Sal ! 
Her  voice  is  sweet  as  the  whippoorwill's, 

And  the  sunshine's  in  her  hair; 
But  I'd  rather  face  a  redskin's  knife. 

Or  the  grip  of  a  grizzly  bear. 
Yet  Sal  says:  "Why,  she's  such  a  dear, 

She's  just  the  one  for  you." 
Oh,  darn  it  all !  a-feared  of  a  gal, 

And  me  just  six  feet  two ! 

Tho  she  ain't  any  size,  wlide  I'm 

Considerable  tall, 
I'm  nowhere  when  she  speaks  to  me, 

She  makes  me  feel  so  small. 
My  face  grows  red,  my  tongue  gets  hitched, 

The  plagued  thing  won't  go; 
It  riles  me,  'cause  it  makes  her  think 

I'm  most  tarnation  slow. 
And  tho  folks  say  she's  sweet  on  me, 

I  guess  it  can't  be  true. 
Oh,  darn  it  all!  a-feared  of  a  gal, 

And  me  just  six  feet  two ! 

My  sakes !  just  s'pose  if  what  the  folks 

Is  saying  should  be  so ! 
Go,  Cousin  Jane,  and  speak  to  her, 

Find  out  and  let  me  know; 
Tell  her  the  gals  should  court  the  men, 

For  isn't  this  leap-year? 


238  HUMOROUS    HITS 

That's  why  I'm  kind  of  bashful  like, 

A-waiting  for  her  here. 
And  should  she  hear  I'm  scared  of  her, 

You'll  swear  it  can't  be  true. 
Oh,  darn  it  all,  a-feared  of  a  gal. 

And  me  just  six  feet  two! 


LEAVING  OUT  THE  JOKE 

ANONYMOUS 

Some  people  are  bright  enough  to  enjoy  a  good  joke,  but  do 
not  have  retentive  memories,  so  as  to  be  able  to  repeat  it  to  others. 
Failures  of  this  kind  are  sometimes  very  ludicrous.  We  give 
some  good  specimens. 

The  most  famous  of  this  class  was  the  college  professor,  who, 
on  parting  with  a  student  that  had  called  on  him,  noticed  that 
he  had  a  new  coat,  and  remarked  that  it  was  too  short. 

The  student,  with  an  air  of  resignation,  replied:  "It  will  be 
long  enough  before  I  get  another." 

The  professor  enjoyed  the  joke  heartily,  and  going  to  a  meeting 
of  the  college  faculty  just  aftenvard,  he  entered  the  room  in 
great  glee  and  said : 

"Young  Sharp  got  oif  such  a  joke  just  now.  He  called  on  me 
a  little  while  ago,  and  as  he  was  leaving,  I  noticed  his  new  coat, 
and  told  him  it  was  too  short,  and  he  said :  "It  will  be  a  long  time 
before  I  get  another." 

No  one  laughed,  and  the  professor  sobering  down,  remarked: 
"It  doesn't  seem  so  funny  as  when  he  said  it." 

A  red-haii"ed  woman  who  was  ambitious  of  literaiy  distinction 
found  but  poor  sale  for  her  book.  A  gentleman,  in  speaking  of 
her  disappointment,  said:  "Her  hair  is  red  (read)  if  her  book  is 
not."  An  auditor,  in  attempting  to  relate  the  joke  elsewhere,  said : 
"She  has  red  hair  if  her  book  hasn't." 

The  most  unfortunate  attempt  at  reproducing  another's  wit 
was  made  by  an  Englishman  who  didn't  understand  the  pun,  but 
judged  from  the  applause  with  which  it  was  greeted  that  it  must 


HUMOROUS  HITS  239 

be  excellent.  During  a  dinner  at  wliicli  he  was  a  guest  a  waiter 
let  a  boiled  tongue  slip  of£  the  plate  on  which  he  was  bearing  it, 
and  it  fell  on  the  table. 

The  host  at  once  apologized  for  the  mishap  as  a  lapsus  lin- 
guce  (slip  of  the  tongue).  The  joke  was  the  best  thing  at  the 
dinner,  and  our  friend  concluded  to  bring  it  up  at  his  own  table. 

He  accordingly  invited  his  company  and  instructed  his  servant 
to  let  fall  a  roast  of  beef  as  he  was  bringing  it  to  the  table. 

When  the  "accident"  occurred,  he  exclaimed:  "That's  a  lapsus 
linguce." 

Nobody  laughed,  and  he  said  again,  "I  say  that's  a  lapsus  lin- 
guce/'  and  still  no  one  laughed. 

A  screw  was  loose  somewhere;  so  he  told  about  the  tongue  fall- 
ing, and  they  did  laugh. 

"Why  is  this,"  said  a  waiter,  holding  up  a  common  kitchen 
utensil,  "more  remarkable  than  Napoleon  Bonaparte?  Because 
Napoleon  was  a  gi'eat  man,  but  this  is  a  grater."  When  the  funny 
man  reproduced  it  in  his  circle,  he  asked  the  question  right,  but 
answered  it,  "Because  Napoleon  was  a  great  man,  but  this  is  a 
nutmeg-grater." 

THE  CYCLOPEEDY 

BY    EUGEXE    FIELD 

Havin'  lived  next  door  to  the  Hobart  place  f'r  goin'  on  thirty 
years,  I  calc'late  that  I  know  jest  about  ez  much  about  the  ease 
ez  anybody  else  now  on  airth,  exceptin'  perhaps  it's  ol'  Jedge 
Baker,  and  he's  so  plaguey  old  'nd  so  powerful  feeble  that  he 
don't  know  nothin'. 

It  seems  that  in  the  spring  iiv  '47 — the  year  that  Cy  Watson's 
oldest  boy  wuz  drownded  in  West  River — there  come  along  a  book 
agent  sellin'  volyumes  'nd  tracks  f'r  the  diffusion  uv  knowledge, 
'nd  havin'  got  the  recommend  of  the  minister  'nd  uv  the  select- 
men, he  done  an  all-fired  big  business  in  our  part  uv  the  county. 
His  name  wuz  Lemuel  Higgins,  'nd  he  wuz  ez  likely  a  talker  ez 
I  ever  heerd,  barrin'  Lawj^er  Conkey,  'nd  everybody  allowed  that 
when  Conkey  wuz  round  he  talked  so  fast  that  the  town  pump 
ud  have  to  be  greased  every  twenty  minutes. 


240  HUMOROUS  HITS 

One  of  the  fii'st  uv  our  folks  that  this  Lemuel  Higgins  struck 
wuz  Leander  Hobart.  Leander  had  jest  marr  d  one  uv  the  Peasley 
girls,  'lid  had  moved  into  the  old  homestead  on  the  Plainville  road, 
— old  Deacon  Ilobart  haviu'  give  up  the  place  to  him,  the  other 
boys  havin'  moved  out  West  (like  a  lot  o'  darned  fools  that  they 
wuz!).  Leander  wuz  feelin'  his  oats  jest  about  this  time,  'nd 
nuthin'  wuz  too  good  f'r  him. 

"Hattie,"  sez  he,  "I  guess  I'll  have  to  lay  in  a  few  books  f'r 
readin'  in  the  winter  time,  'nd  I've  half  a  notion  to  subscribe  f'r 
a  cj'clopeedy.  Mr.  Higgins  here  says  they're  invalerable  in  a 
family,  and  that  we  orter  have  'em,  bein'  as  how  we're  likely  to 
have  the  fam'ly  bime  by." 

"Lor's  sakes,  Leander,  how  you  talk !"  sez  Hattie,  blushin'  all 
over,  ez  brides  allers  does  to  heern  tell  uv  sich  things. 

Waal,  to  make  a  long  stoiy  short,  Leander  bargained  with  Mr. 
Higgins  for  a  set  uv  them  cyclopeedies,  'nd  he  signed  his  name 
to  a  long  printed  paper  that  showed  how  he  agreed  to  take  a 
cyclopeedy  oneet  in  so  often,  which  wuz  to  be  ez  often  ez  a  new 
one  uv  the  volyumes  wuz  jirinted.  A  cj'clopeedy  isn't  printed  all 
at  oncet,  because  that  Avould  make  it  cost  too  much;  consekently 
the  man  that  gets  it  up  has  it  strung  along  fur  apart,  so  as  to 
hit  folks  once  every  year  or  two,  and  gin'rally  about  harvest 
time.  So  Leander  kind  uv  liked  the  idee,  and  he  signed  the 
printed  paper  'nd  made  his  affidavit  to  it  afore  Jedge  Warner. 

The  fust  volymne  of  the  cyclopeedy  stood  on  a  shelf  in  the  old 
seckertary  in  the  settin'-room  about  four  months  before  they  had 
any  use  f'r  it.  One  night  'Squire  Tuner's  son  come  over  to  visit 
Leander  'nd  Hattie,  and  they  got  to  talkin'  about  apples,  'nd 
the  sort  uv  apples  that  wuz  the  best.  Leander  allowed  that  the 
Rhode  Island  greenin'  wuz  the  best,  but  Hattie  and  the  Turner 
boy  stuck  up  f'r  the  Roxbury  russet,  until  at  last  a  happy  idee 
struck  Leander,  and  sez  he:  "We'll  leave  it  to  the  cyclopeedy, 
b'gosh !  Whichever  one  the  cyclopeedy  sez  is  the  best  will  set- 
tle it." 

"But  you  can't  find  out  nothin'  'bout  Roxliury  russets  nor 
Rhode  Island  greenin's  in  our  cyclopeedy,"  sez  Hattie. 

"Why  not,  I'd  like  to  know?"  sez  Leander,  kind  uv  indignant 
like. 


HUMOROUS  HITS  241 

"  'Cause  ours  hain't  got  down  to  the  R  yet,"  sez  Hattie.  "All 
ours  tells  about  is  things  beginnin'  with  A." 

"Well,  ain't  we  talkin'  about  Apples?"  sez  Leander.  "You 
aggervate  me  terrible,  Hattie,  by  insistin'  on  knowin'  what  you 
don't  know  nothin'  'bout." 

Leander  went  to  the  seckertary  'nd  took  down  the  cyclopeedy 
'nd  hunted  all  through  it  f'r  Apples,  but  all  he  could  find  wuz 
"Apple — See  Pomology." 

"How  in  the  thunder  kin  I  see  Pomology,"  sez  Leander,  "when 
there  ain't  no  Pomology  to  see?  Gol  durn  a  cyclopeedy,  any- 
how!" 

And  he  put  the  volyume  back  onto  the  shelf  'nd  never  sot  eyes 
into  it  agm. 

That's  the  way  the  thing  run  f'r  years  'nd  years.  Leander 
would've  gin  up  the  plaguey  bargain,  but  he  couldn't;  he  had 
signed  a  printed  paper  'nd  had  swore  to  it  before  a  justice  of  the 
peace.  Higgins  would  have  had  the  law  on  him  if  he  had  throwed 
up  the  trade. 

The  most  aggervatm'  feature  uv  it  all  wuz  that  a  new  one  uv 
them  cussid  cyclopeedies  wuz  alius  sure  to  show  up  at  the  wrong 
time, — when  Leander  wuz  hard  up  or  had  jest  been  afflicted  some 
way  or  other.  His  barn  burnt  down  two  nights  afore  the  volyume 
containin'  the  letter  B  arrived,  and  Leander  needed  all  his  chink 
to  pay  f'r  lumber,  but  Higgins  sot  back  on  that  affidavit  and  de- 
fied the  life  out  uv  him. 

"Never  mind,  Leander,"  sez  his  wife,  soothin'  like,  "it's  a  good 
book  to  have  in  the  house,  anyhow,  now  that  we've  got  a  baby." 

"That's  so,"  sez  Leander,  "babies  does  begin  with  B,  don't  it?" 

You  see  their  fust  baby  had  been  born;  they  named  him  Peas- 
ley, — Peasley  Hobart, — after  Hattie's  folks.  So,  seein'  as  how 
he  wuz  payin'  f'r  a  book  that  told  about  babies,  Leander  didn't 
begredge  that  five  dollars  so  very  much  after  all. 

"Leander,"  sez  Hattie,  "that  B  cyclopeedy  am't  no  account. 
There  ain't  nothin'  in  it  about  babies  except  'See  Maternity' !" 

"Waal,  I'll  be  gosh  durned!"  sez  Leander.  That  wuz  all  he 
said,  and  he  couldn't  do  nothin'  at  all,  f'r  that  book  agent,  Lem- 
uel Higgins,  had  the  dead-wood  on  him, — the  mean,  sneakin' 
critter ! 


242  HUMOROUS  HITS 

So  the  years  passed  on,  one  of  the  cyclopeedies  showin'  up 
now  'nd  then, — sometimes  every  two  years  'nd  sometimes  every 
four,  but  alius  at  a  time  when  Leander  found  it  pesky  hard  to 
give  up  a  fiver.  It  warn't  no  use  cussin'  Higgins;  Higgins  jest 
laffed  when  Leander  allowed  that  the  cyclopeedy  wuz  no  good  'nd 
that  he  wuz  bein'  robbed.  Meantime  Leander's  family  wuz  in- 
oreasm'  and  gi'owm'.  Little  Sarey  had  the  hoopin'-eough  dread- 
ful one  winter,  but  the  cyclopeedy  didn't  help  out  at  all,  'cause 
all  it  said  wuz:  "Hoopin'  Cough — See  Whoopin'  Cough" — and 
uv  course,  there  warn't  no  Whoopin'  Cough  to  see,  bein'  as  how 
the  W  hadn't  come  yet. 

Oncet  Avhen  Hiram  wanted  to  dreen  the  home  pasture,  he  went 
to  the  cjTlopeedy  to  find  out  about  it,  but  all  he  diskivered  wuz: 
"Drain — See  Tile."  This  wuz  in  1859,  and  the  cyclopeedy  had 
only  got  down  to  G. 

The  cow  wuz  sick  with  lung  fever  one  spell,  and  Leander  laid 
her  dyin'  to  that  cussid  cyelopeedj^,  'cause  when  he  went  to  readin' 
'bout  cows  it  told  him  to  "See  Zoology."  ' 

But  what's  the  use  uv  harrowin'  up  one's  feelin's  talkin'  'nd 
thinkin'  about  these  things?  Leander  got  so  after  a  while  that 
the  cyclopeedy  didn't  worry  him  at  all :  he  grew  to  look  at  it  ez 
one  uv  the  crosses  that  human  critters  has  to  bear  without  com- 
plainin'  through  this  vale  uv  tears.  The  only  thing  that  bothered 
him  wuz  the  fear  that  mebbe  he  wouldn't  live  to  see  the  last 
volyume, — to  tell  the  truth,  this  kind  uv  got  to  be  his  hobby,  and 
I've  heern  him  talk  'bout  it  many  a  time  settin'  round  the  stove 
at  the  tavern  'nd  squirtin'  tobacco  juice  at  the  sawdust  box.  His 
wife,  Hattie,  passed  away  with  the  yaller  janders  the  winter  W 
come,  and  all  that  seemed  to  reconcile  Leander  to  survivin'  her 
Avuz  the  prospect  uv  seein'  the  last  volyume  uv  that  cyclopeedy. 
Lemuel  Higgins,  the  book  agent,  had  gone  to  his  everlastin'  pun- 
ishment; but  his  son,  Hiram,  had  succeeded  to  his  father's  busi- 
ness 'nd  continued  to  visit  the  folks  his  old  man  had  roped  in. 
By  this  time  Leander's  children  had  growed  up;  all  on  'em  wuz 
marr'd,  and  there  wuz  numeris  grandchildren  to  amuse  the  ol' 
gentleman.  But  Leander  wuzn't  to  be  satisfied  with  the  common 
things  uv  airth;  he  didn't  seem  to  take  no  pleasure  in  his  grand- 
children like  most  men  do;  his  mind  wuz  allers  sot  on  somethin* 


HUMOROUS  HITS  243 

else, — for  hours  'nd  hours,  yes,  all  day  long,  he'd  set  out  on  the 
front  stoop  lookin'  wistfully  up  the  road  for  that  book  agent  to 
come  along  with  a  cyclopeedy.  He  didn't  want  to  die  till  he'd 
got  all  the  cycloiDeedies  his  contract  called  for;  he  wanted  to  have 
everything  straightened  out  before  he  passed  away. 

When — oh,  how  well  I  recollect  it — when  Y  come  along  he  wuz 
so  overcome  that  he  fell  over  in  a  fit  uv  paralysis,  'nd  the  old 
gentleman  never  got  over  it.  For  the  next  three  years  he  drooped 
'nd  pined  and  seemed  like  he  couldn't  hold  out  much  longer.  Fi- 
nally he  had  to  take  to  his  bed, — he  was  so  old  'nd  feeble, — but  he 
made  'em  move  the  bed  up  ag'inst  the  wmdow  so  he  could  watch 
for  that  last  volyume  of  the  cyclopeedy. 

The  end  come  one  balmy  day  in  the  spring  uv  '87.  His  life  wuz 
a-ebbin'  powerful  fast;  the  minister  wuz  there,  'nd  me,  'nd  Dock 
"Wilson,  'nd  Jedge  Baker,  'nd  most  uv  the  fam'ly.  Lovin'  hands 
smoothed  the  wrinkled  forehead  'nd  breshed  back  the  long,  scant, 
white  hair,  but  the  eyes  of  the  dyin'  man  wuz  sot  upon  that  piece 
uv  road  over  which  the  cyclopeedy  man  alius  come. 

All  to  oncet  a  bright  'nd  joyful  look  come  into  them  eyes,  'nd 
ol'  Leander  riz  up  in  bed  'nd  sez :  "It's  come !" 

"What  is  it,  father?"  asked  his  daughter  Sarey,  sobbin'  like. 

"Hush,"  sez  the  minister,  solemnly;  "he  sees  the  shinin'  gates 
uv  the  Noo  Jerusalem." 

"No,  no,"  cried  the  aged  man;  "it  is  the  cyclopeedy — the  letter 
Z— it's  comin'!" 

And,  sure  enough !  the  door  opened,  and  in  walked  Higgins. 
He  tottered  rather  than  walked,  f'r  he  had  growed  old  'nd  feeble 
in  his  wicked  perfession. 

"Here's  the  Z  cyclopeedy,  Mr.  Hobart,"  says  Higgins. 

Leander  clutched  it;  he  hugged  it  to  his  pantin'  bosom;  then 
stealin'  one  pale  hand  vmder  the  pillar  he  drew  out  a  faded  bank- 
note 'nd  gave  it  to  Higgins. 

"I  thank  Thee  for  this  boon,"  sez  Leander,  rollin'  his  eyes  up 
devoutly;  then  he  gave  a  deep  sigh. 

"Hold  on,"  cried  Higgins,  excitedly,  "you've  made  a  mistake — 
it  isn't  the  last " 

But  Leander  didn't  hear  him — his  soul  bed  fled  from  its  mortal 
tenement  'nd  bed  soared  rejoicin'  to  realms  uv  everlastin'  bliss. 

*'He  is  no  more,"  sez  Dock  Wilson,  metaphorically. 


244  HUMOROUS  HITS 

"Then  who  are  his  heirs?"  asked  that  mean  critter  Higgins. 
"We  be,"  sez  the  fam'ly. 

"Do  you  conjointly  and  severally  acknowledge  and  assume  the 
obligation  of  deceased  to  me?"  he  asked  'em. 

"What  obligation?"  asked  Peasley  Hobart,  stern  like. 

"Deceased  died  owin'  me  f 'r  a  cyclopeedy !"  sez  Higgins. 

"That's  a  lie !"  sez  Peasley.    "We  seen  him  pay  you  for  the  Z !" 

"But  there's  another  one  to  come,"  sez  Higgins. 

"Another?"  they  all  asked. 

"Yes,  the  index,"  sez  he.     So  there  wuz. 

Reprinted  by  permission  of  the  author. 


ECHO 

BY  JOHN   G.   SAXE 

I  asked  of  Echo,  t'other  day 

(Whose  words  are  often  few  and  funny), 
What  to  a  novice  she  could  say 

Of  courtship,  love,  and  matrimony. 

Quoth  Echo  plainly, — "Matter-o'-money !" 

Whom  should  I  marry  ?    Should  it  be 
A  dashing  damsel,  gay  and  pert, 

A  pattern  of  inconstancy ; 
Or  selfish,  mercenary  flirt? 
Quoth  Echo,  sharply, — "Nary  flirt!" 

What  if,  aweary  of  the  sti'ife 

That  long  has  lured  the  dear  deceiver, 
She  promise  to  amend  her  life. 

And  sin  no  more;  can  I  believe  her? 

Quoth  Echo,  very  promptly, — "Leave  her!" 

But  if  some  maiden  with  a  heart 
On  me  should  venture  to  bestow  it, 

Pray,  should  I  act  the  wiser  part 
To  take  the  treasure  or  forego  it? 
Quoth  Echo,  with  decision, — "Go  it !" 


HUMOROUS  HITS  245 

But  what  if,  seemingly  afraid 

To  bind  her  fate  in  Hymen's  fetter, 
She  vow  she  means  to  die  a  maid, 

In  answer  to  my  loving  letter? 

Quoth  Echo,  rather  coolly, — "Let  her!" 

"What  if,  in  spite  of  her  disdain 

I  find  my  heart  entwined  about 
With  Cupid's  dear  delicious  chain 

So  closely  that  I  can't  get  out? 

Quoth  Echo,  laughingly,— "Get  out !" 

But  if  some  maid  with  beauty  blest, 

As  pure  and  fair  as  Heaven  can  make  her, 

Will  share  my  labor  and  my  rest 

Till  envious  Death  shall  overtake  her  ? 
Quoth  Echo  (sotto  voce),— "Take  her!" 

Reprinted  by  permission  of  Houghton,  MiflBin  &  Company. 

OUR  RAILROADS 

ANONYMOUS 

He  stood  in  the  station,  she  at  his  side — 

She  is  a  fair,  young,  blushing  bride. 

On  their  honeymoon  they're  starting  now ; 

It  always  follows  the  marriage  vow. 

He  looks  at  the  flaring  railroad  maps, 

At  the  train  of  cars  and  his  baggage  traps, 

And  whispered :  "Pettie,  how  shall  we  go, — 

By  the  Kankakee  or  the  Kokomo  1 

"These  railroad  maps  confuse  the  eye, 
There's  the  C.  B.  Q.  and  the  R.  N.  Y. 
And  this  one  says  your  life's  at  stake 
On  any  road  but  the  Sky  Blue  Lake. 
The  N.  E.  R.  L.  P.  Q.  J. 
Have  sleepers  on  the  entire  way; 
But  I've  heard  these  trains  are  much  more  slow 
Than  the  Kankakee  or  the  Kokomo." 


246  HUMOROUS    HITS 

She  murmured :  "Sweetie,  I've  heard  pa  say 
What  a  fine  old  road  is  the  P.  G.  K. ; 
But  mamma  seemed  to  disagree, 
And  prefers  the  X.  S.  II.  0.  P. 
This  chart  says,  dearie,  the  views  ai-e  fine 
On  the  Texas-Cowboy-Mustang  line; 
But  still,  perhaps,  we'd  better  go 
On  the  Kankakee  or  the  Kokomo." 


A  conductor  chanced  to  pass  them  by 
And  the  bridegroom  cauglit  his  gentle  eye; 
He  said :  "0  man,  with  the  cap  of  blue, 
Inform  me  quick,  inform  me  true. 
Which  road  is  best  for  a  blushing,  pure. 
Young,  timid  bride  on  her  wedding  lour? 
And  tell  us  quickly  what  ycu  knoAv 
Of  the  Kankakee  or  the  Kokomol" 


The  conductor's  eyes  gave  a  savage  gleam; 
These  words  rolled  out  in  a  limpid  stream : 
''There's  the  A.  B.  J.  D.  V.  R.  Z. 
Connects  with  the  Flip-Flap-Biff-Bang-B, 
You  can  change  on  the  Leg-off-Sueville-Grand, 
And  go  through  on  the  Pan-cake-aee-FuU-Hand. 
That  road  you  named  is  blocked  by  snow, 
The  Kankakee  and  the  Kokomo. 


''The  Pennsylvania,  Pittsburg  Through, 
Connects  with  the  Oshkosh  Kalamazoo, 
With  a  smoking  car  all  the  afternoon; 
Just  the  thing  for  a  honeymoon; 
And  the  Central-Scalp-Tooth-Bung\-ille-switch 
Goes  through  a  vine-land  country  rich. 
Of  the  road  you  named  I  nothing  know. 
The  Kankakee  and  the  Kokomo." 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  247 

The  bride  said:  "Honey,  'tis  best,  by  far, 
Like  the  dollar,  Ave  return  to  pa 
(That's  a  pun  I  heard  while  on  a  train 
On  the  U.  R.  N.  G.  Jersey  main)." 
The  conductor  smiled;  his  eye-teeth  showed; 
He  had  spoiled  the  trade  of  a  rival  road. 
He  knew  in  his  heart  there  was  no  snow 
On  the  Kankakee  or  the  Kokomo. 


And  the  bride  and  groom  returned  to  pa. 
Who  heard  it  all  and  then  said :  "Pshaw ! 
If  you  found  you  couldn't  go  that  way, 
Why  didn't  you  go  on  the  Cross-eyed  Bay?" 
The  bridegroom  gave  a  howl  of  pain ; 
The  railroad  names  had  turned  his  brain. 
He  raves,  insane,  f  orevermore ; 
In  a  madhouse,  chained  unto  the  floor. 
He  gibbers:  "Tootsie,  shall  we  go 
By  the  Kankakee  or  the  Kokomo?" 


WAKIN'  THE  YOUNG  'UNS 
(The  old  man  from  the  foot  of  the  stairs — 5  a.  m.) 

BY  JOHN  C.  BOSS 

Bee-ull !  Bee-uU !  0  Bee-ull !  my  gracious. 
Air  you  still  sleepin'  ? 
Th'  hour-hand's  creepin' 
Nearder  five. 
(Wal,  durned  ef  this  'ere  ain't  vexatious!) 
Don't  ye  hyar  them  cattle  callin"? 
An'  th'  ole  red  steer  a-bawlin"? 
Come,  look  alive! 
Git  up !  Git  up ! 


248  HUMOROUS    HITS 

Mar'ann!  Mar'ann!  (Jist  hyar  her  snorin'!) 
Mar'ann !  it's  behoovin' 
Thet  you  be  a-moovin' ! 
Brisk,  I  say! 
Hyar  the  kitchen  stove  a-roarin'  ? 
The  kittle's  a-spilin' 
Ter  git  hisse'f  bilin'. 
It's  comin'  day. 
Git  up  !  Git  up ! 

Jule!  0  Jule!   Now  whut  is  ailin'? 
You  want  ter  rest? 
War  I'll  be  blest ! 
S'pose  them  cows 
'LI  give  down  milk  'ithout  you  pailin'? 
You  mus'  be  goin  crazy; 
Er*  more  like,  gittin'  lazy. 
Come,  now,  rouse. 
Git  up !  Git  up ! 

Jake,  you  lazy  varmint !  Jake !  Hey  Jake ! 
Whut  you  layin'  theer  fur? 
You  know  the  stock's  ter  keer  fur; 
So,  hop  out ! 
(Thet  boy  is  wusser'n  a  rock  ter  wake!) 
Don't  stop  to  shiver, 
But  jist  unkiver. 
An'  pop  out ! 
Git  up !  Git  up ! 

Young  'nns !  Bee-ull !  Jake !  Mar'ann !  Jule ! 
(Wal'  durn  my  orn'ry  skin! 
They've  gone  ter  sleep  agin. 
Fur  all  my  tellin'!) 
See  hyar,  I  hain't  no  time  ter  fool! 
It's  the  las'  warnin' 
I'll  give  this  mornin'. 
I'm  done  yellin' ! 
Git  up!  Git  up! 


HUMOROUS    HITS  249 


Solus 


Wal,  whut's  til'  odds — an  hour,  more  or  less? 
B'lieve  it  makes  'em  stronger 
Ter  sleep  a  leetle  longer 
Thar  in  bed. 
The  time  is  comin'  fas'  enough,  I  guess. 
When  I'll  wish,  an'  wish  'ith  weepin' 
They  was  back  up  yender  sleepin', 
Overhead, 
Ter  git  up. 


PAT'S  REASON 

ANONYMOUS 

One  day  I  observed  in  a  crowded  horse-ear, 

A  lady  was  standing.     She  had  ridden  quite  far, 

And  seemed  much  disposed  to  indulge  in  a  frown, 

As  nobody  offered  to  let  her  sit  down. 

And  many  there  sat  who,  to  judge  by  their  dress, 

Might  a  gentleman's  natural  instincts  possess, 

But  who,  judged  by  their  acts,  make  us  firmly  believe 

That  appearances  often  will  sadly  deceive. 

There  were  some  most  intently  devouring  the  news, 

And  some  thro'  the  windows  enjoying  the  views; 

And  others  indulged  in  a  make-believe  nap, 

While  the  lady  still  stood  holding  on  by  the  strap. 

At  last  a  young  Irishman,  fresh  from  the  "sod," 

Arose  with  a  smile  and  most  comical  nod. 

Which  said  quite  as  plain  as  in  words  could  be  stated 

That  the  lady  should  sit  in  the  place  he'd  vacated. 

"Excuse  me,"  said  Pat,  "that  I  caused  you  to  wait 

So  long  before  offerin'  to  give  you  a  sate. 

But  in  troth  I  was  only  just  waitin'  to  see 

If  there  wasn't  more  gintlemin  here  beside  me." 


250  HUMOKOUS    HITS 

QUIT  YOUR  FOOLIN' 

ANONYMOUS 

Girls  is  queer!  I  used  to  think 
Emmy  didn't  care  for  me, 

For,  whenever  I  would  try 
Any  lovin'  arts,  to  see 

How  she'd  take  'em — sweet  or  sour- 
Always  saucy-like  says  she : 
"Quit  your  foolin' !" 


Once  a-g-oin'  home  from  church, 
Jest  to  find  if  it  would  work, 

Round  her  waist  I  slipt  my  arm — 
My !  you'd  ought  'o  seen  her  jerk, 

Spunky"?  well,  she  acted  so — 
And  she  snapt  me  up  as  perk — 
"Quit  your  foolin' !" 

Every  time  'twas  just  the  same, 
Till  one  night  I  says,  says  I — 

Chokiu'  some  I  must  admit, 

Tremblin'  some  I  don't  deny — 

"Emmy,  seein'  as  I  don't  suit, 
Guess  I'd  better  say  good-by 
An'  quit  foolin'." 


Girls  is  queer !   She  only  laughed — 
Cheeks  all  dimplin' ;  "John,"  saj's  she, 

"Foolin'  men  that  never  gits 
Real  in  earnest,  aui't  for  me." 

"VVan't  that  cute?  I  took  the  hint. 
An'  a  chair,  an'  staid,  an'  we 
Quit  our  foolin'. 


HUMOROUS    HITS  251 

SHE  WOULD  BE  A  MASON 

BY  JAMES  L.  LAUGHTON 

The  funniest  thing  I  ever  heard, 
The  funniest  thing  that  ever  occurred, 
Is  the  story  of  Mrs.  Mehitable  Byrde, 
Who  wanted  to  be  a  Mason. 


Her  husband,  Tom  Byrde,  a  Mason  true — 
As  good  a  Mason  as  any  of  you; 
He  is  tyler  of  Lodge  Cerulean  Blue, 
And  tyles  and  delivers  the  summons  due — 
And  she  wanted  to  be  a  Mason,  too, 
This  ridiculous  Mrs.  Byrde. 

She  followed  round,  this  inquisitive  wife. 

And  nagged  him  and  teased  him  half  out  of  his  life ; 

So  to  tei'minate  this  unhallowed  strife. 

He  consented  at  last  to  admit  her. 
And  first,  to  disguise  her  from  bonnet  and  shoon, 
This  ridiculous  lady  agreed  to  put  on 
His  breech — ah  !  forgive  me — I  meant  pantaloons ; 

And  miraculously  did  they  fit  her. 

The  lodge  was  at  work  on  the  Master's  degree, 
The  light  w- as  ablaze  on  the  letter  C ; 
High  soared  the  pillars  J  and  B. 
The  officers  sat  like  Solomon,  wise ; 
The  brimstone  burned  amid  horrible  cries; 
The  goat  roamed  wildly  through  the  room; 
The  candidate  begged  to  let  him  go  home ; 
And  the  devil  himself  stood  up  at  the  east, 
As  broad  as  an  alderman  at  a  feast, 
When  in  came  Mrs.  Byrde. 


ono  HUMOROUS    HITS 


l:;)Z 


0  horrible  sounds !  0  horrible  sight ! 

Can  it  be  that  Masons  take  delight 

In  spending  tlius  the  hours  of  night? 

Ah!  could  their  wives  and  daughters  know 

The  uiudtorable  tlimgs  they  say  and  do, 

Their  feminine  hearts  would  burst  with  wo! 

But  this  is  not  all  ray  stoi-y. 
Those  Masons  joined  in  a  hideous  ring, 
Tlie  candidale  howling  like  everything, 
And  thus  in  tones  of  death  they  sing 

(The  candidate's  name  was  Morey)  : 
"Double,  doulile,  toil  and  trouble, 
Fire  burn  and  cauldron  bubble; 
Blood  to  drink  and  bones  to  crack, 
Skulls  to  smash  and  lives  to  take. 
Hearts  to  crush  and  souls  to  burn; 
Give  old  Morey  another  turn !" 

The  brimstone  gleamed  in  lurid  flame, 
Just  like  a  place  we  will  not  name; 
Good  angels,  that  inquiring  came 
From  blissful  courts,  looked  on  with  shame 

And  tearful  melancholy. 
Again  they  dance,  but  twice  as  bad, 
They  jump  and  sing  like  demons  mad; 

The  tune  is  far  from  jolly: 
"Double,  double,  toil  and  trouble, 
Fire  burn  and  cauldron  bubble; 
Blood  to  drink  and  bones  to  ci'ack. 
Skulls  to  smash  and  lives  to  take, 
Hearts  to  crush  and  souls  to  burn; 
Give  old  Morey  another  turn !" 

Trembling  with  horror  stood  Mrs.  Byrde, 
Unable  to  speak  a  single  word. 
She  staggered  and  fell  in  the  nearest  chair, 
On  the  left  of  the  junior  warden  there. 
And  scarcely  noticed,  so  loud  the  groans, 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  253 

That  the  ehaii*  was  made  of  human  bones. 
Of  human  bones !    On  grinning  skulls 
That  ghastly  throne  of  horror  rolls; 
Those  skulls,  the  skulls  that  Morgan  bore; 
Those  bones,  the  bones  that  Morgan  wore. 
His  scalp  across  the  top  was  flung, 
His  teeth  around  the  aiTQS  were  strung. 
Never  in  all  romance  was  knoAsn 
Such  uses  made  of  human  bone. 

There  came  a  i^ause — a  pair  of  paws 
Reached  through  the  floor,  up  sliding-doors. 
And  grabbed  the  mahappy  candidate ! 
How  can  I,  without  tears,  relate 
The  lost  and  ruined  Morey's  fate  ? 
She  saw  him  smk  in  a  fieiy  hole, 
She  heard  him  scream,  "My  soul !    My  soul !" 
While  roars  of  fiendish  laughter  roll, 

And  drown  the  yells  for  mercy: 
''Double,  double,  toil  and  trouble. 
Fire  burn  and  cauldron  bubble; 
Blood  to  drink  and  bones  to  crack, 
Skulls  to  smash  and  lives  to  take. 
Hearts  to  crush  and  souls  to  burn; 
Give  old  Morey  another  turn !" 

The  ridiculous  woman  could  stand  no  more, 
She  fainted  and  fell  on  the  checkered  floor, 
']\Iidst  all  the  diabolical  roar. 
What  then,  you  ask  me,  did  befall 
Mehitable  Byrde?   Why,  nothing  at  all — 
She  dreamed  she  had  been  in  a  Mason's  hall. 


25-4  HUMOROUS    HITS 

HENRY  THE  FIFTH'S  WOOING 

BY  SHAKESPEARE 

K.  Henry.    Fair  Katharine,  and  most  lair. 
Will  you  vouchsafe  to  teach  a  soldier  terms 
Such  as  will  enter  at  a  lady's  ear 
And  plead  his  love-suit  to  her  gentle  heart? 

Katharine.  Your  majesty  shall  mock  at  me;  I  can  not  speak 
your  England. 

K.  Hen.  0  fair  Katharine,  if  you  will  love  me  soundly  with 
your  French  heart,  I  Avill  be  glad  to  hear  you  confess  it  brokenly 
with  your  English  tongue.    Do  you  like  me,  Kate? 

Kath.     Pardonnez-moi,  I  can  not  tell  vat  is  "like  me." 

K.  Hen.    An  angel  is  like  you,  Kate,  and  you  are  like  an  angel. 

Kath.    Quedit-il?    que  je  suis  semblable  a  les  anges? 

Alice.    Ova,  vraiment,  sauf  votre  grace,  ainsi  dit-il. 

K.  Hen.  I  said  so,  dear  Katharine;  and  I  must  not  blush  to 
affirm  it. 

Kalh.     0  les  langues  des  hommes  sont  pleines  des  tromperies. 

K.  Hen.  "What  says  she,  fair  one?  that  the  tongues  of  men  are 
full  of  deceits? 

Alice.  Oui,  dat  de  tongues  of  de  mans  is  be  full  of  deceits :  dat 
is  de  princess. 

K.  Hen.  The  princess  is  the  better  Englishwoman.  I'  faith, 
Kate,  my  wooing  is  fit  for  thy  understanding;  I  am  glad  thou 
canst  speak  no  better  English;  for,  if  thou  couldst,  thou  wouldst 
find  me  such  a  plain  king  that  thou  wouldst  think  I  had  sold  my 
farm  to  buy  my  crown.  I  know  no  ways  to  mince  it  in  love,  but 
directly  to  say,  "I  love  you" :  then  if  you  urge  me  further  than 
to  say,  "Do  you  in  faith?"  I  wear  out  my  suit.  Give  me  your 
answer;  i'  faith,  do:  and  so  clap  hands  and  a  bargain:  how  say 
you,  lady? 

Kath.     Sauf  votre  honneur,  me  understand  veil. 

K.  Hen.  Marry,  if  you  would  put  me  to  verses  or  to  dance  for 
your  sake.  Kate,  why  you  undid  me:  for  the  one  I  have  neither 
words  nor  measures,  and  for  the  other,  I  have  no  strength  in  meas- 


HUMOROUS    HITS  255 

ure,  yet  a  reasonable  measure  in  strength.  If  I  could  win  a  lady 
at  leap-frog,  or  by  vaulting  into  mj'  saddle  with  my  armor  on  my 
back,  under  the  correction  of  bragging  be  it  spoken,  I  should 
quickly  leap  into  a  wife.  Or  if  I  buffet  for  my  love,  or  bound  my 
horse  for  her  favors,  I  could  lay  on  like  a  butcher  and  sit  like  a 
jackanapes,  never  off.  But,  Kate,  I  can  not  look  greenly  nor 
gasp  out  my  eloquence,  nor  I  have  no  cunning  in  protestation : 
only  downright  oaths,  which  I  never  use  till  urged,  nor  never 
break  for  urging.  If  thou  canst  love  a  fellow  of  this  temper, 
Kate,  whose  face  is  not  worth  sun-burning,  that  never  looks  in 
his  glass  for  love  of  anything  he  sees  there,  let  thine  eye  be  thy 
cook.  I  speak  to  thee  plain  soldier:  if  thou  canst  love  me  for 
this,  take  me :  if  not,  to  say  to  thee  that  I  shall  die,  is  true ;  but 
for  thy  love,  no ;  yet  I  love  thee,  too.  And  while  thou  livest,  dear 
Kate,  take  a  fellow  of  plain  and  uncoined  constancy;  for  he  per- 
force must  do  thee  right,  because  he  hath  not  the  gift  to  woo  in 
other  places :  for  these  f ellou's  of  infinite  tongue,  that  can  rhyme 
themselves  into  ladies'  favors,  they  do  always  reason  themselves 
out  again.  "What!  a  speaker  is  but  a  prater;  a  rh\Tiie  is  but  a 
ballad.  A  good  leg  will  fall;  a  straight  back  will  stoop;  a  black 
beard  will  turn  white;  a  curled  pate  will  gi-ow  bald;  a  fair  face 
will  wither;  a  full  eye  wUl  wax  hollow:  but  a  good  heart,  Kate, 
is  the  sun  and  the  moon;  or  rather  the  sun  and  not  the  moon, 
for  it  shines  bright  and  never  changes,  but  keeps  his  course  truly. 
If  thou  would  have  such  a  one,  take  me;  and  take  me,  take  a 
soldier;  take  a  soldier,  take  a  king.  And  what  sayest  thou  then 
to  my  love?  speak,  my  fair,  and  faii'ly,  I  pi'ay  thee. 

Kath.    Is  it  possible  dat  I  should  love  de  enemy  of  France? 

K.  Hen.  No;  it  is  not  possible  you  should  love  the  enemy  of 
France,  Kate:  but,  in  loving  me,  you  should  love  the  friend  of 
France;  for  I  love  France  so  well  that  I  will  not  part  with  a  vil- 
lage of  it;  I  will  have  it  all  mine;  and,  Kate,  when  France  is 
mine  and  I  am  yours,  then  yours  is  France  and  you  are  mine. 

Kath.    I  can  not  tell  vat  is  dat. 

K.  Hen.  No,  Kate?  I  will  tell  thee  in  French;  which  I  am 
sure  will  hang  upon  my  tongue  like  a  new-married  wife  about  her 
husband's  neck,  hardly  to  be  shook  off.  Quand  j'ay  la  possession 
de  France,  et  quand  vous  avez  la  possession  de  moi, — let  me  see, 


256  HUMOROUS    HITS 

what  then'/  Saint  Denis  be  my  speed! — done  voire  est  France 
et  vous  etes  mienne.  It  is  as  easy  for  me,  Kate,  to  conquer  tiie 
kingdom  as  to  speak  so  much  more  French;  I  shall  never  move 
thee  in  French,  unless  it  be  to  laugh  at  me. 

Kath.  Sauf  votre  honncur,  le  Francois  que  vous  parlez,  est 
meilleur  que  I'Anglois  lequel  je  parle. 

K.  Hen.  No,  faith,  is't  not,  Kate;  but  thy  speaking  of  my 
tongue,  and  I  thine,  most  truly-falsely,  must  needs  be  granted  to 
be  much  at  one.  But,  Kate,  dost  thou  understand  thus  much  Eng- 
lish, canst  thou  love  me? 

Kath.    I  can  not  tell. 

K.  Hen.  Can  any  of  your  neighbors  tell  Kale.  I'll  ask  them. 
Come,  I  know  thou  lovest  me;  and  at  night,  when  you  come  into 
your  closet,  you'll  question  this  gentlewoman  about  me;  and  I 
know,  Kate,  you  will  to  her  dispraise  those  parts  in  me  that  you 
love  with  your  heart;  but,  good  Kate,  mock  me  mercifully;  the 
rather,  gentle  princess,  because  I  love  thee  cruelly.  How  answer 
you,  la  plus  belle  Katharine  du  monde,  mon  tres  chere  et  divine 

deesse  ? 

Kath.  Your  majestee  ave  faussee  French  enough  to  deceive 
de  most  sage  demoiselle  dat  is  en  France. 

K.  Hen.  Now,  fie  upon  my  false  French!  By  mine  honor,  in 
true  English,  I  love  thee,  Kate ;  by  which  honor  I  dare  not  swear 
thou  lovest  me;  yet  my  blood  begins  to  flatter  me  that  thou  dost, 
notwithstanding  the  poor  and  untempering  effect  of  my  visage. 
I  was  created  with  a  stubborn  outside,  with  an  aspect  of  iron, 
that,  when  I  come  to  woo  ladies,  I  fright  them.  But,  in  faith 
Kate,  the  elder  I  wax,  the  better  I  shall  appear;  ray  comfort  is, 
that  old  ago,  that  ill  layer  up  of  beauty,  can  do  no  more  spoil  upon 
my  face:  thou  hast  me,  if  thou  hast  me,  at  the  worst;  and  thou 
shalt  wear  me,  if  thou  wear  me,  better  and  better :  and  therefore, 
tell  me,  most  fair  Katharine,  Avill  you  have  me?  Put  off  your 
maiden  blushes;  avouch  the  thoughts  of  your  heart  with  the  looks 
of  an  empress;  take  me  by  the  hand,  and  say,  "Harry  of  England, 
I  am  thine";  which  word  thou  shalt  no  sooner  bless  mine  ear 
withal,  but  I  will  tell  thee  aloud,  "England  is  thine,  Ireland  is 
thine,  France  is  thine,  and  Plenry  Plantagenet  is  thine";  who, 
the  I  speak  it  before  his  face,  if  he  be  not  fellow  with  the  best 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  257 

king,  thou  shalt  find  the  best  king  of  good  fellows.  Come,  your 
answer  in  broken  music ;  for  thy  voice  is  music  and  thy  English 
broken ;  therefore,  queen  of  all,  Katharine,  break  thy  mind  to  me 
in  broken  English;  wilt  thou  have  me? 

Kath.    Dat  is  as  it  sail  please  de  Roi  mon  pere. 

K.  Hen.  Nay,  it  will  please  him  well,  Kate;  it  shall  please  him, 
Kate. 

Kath.    Den  it  sail  also  content  me. 

K.  lien.    Upon  that  I  kiss  your  hand,  and  I  call  you  my  queen. 

Kath.    Laissez,  mon  seigneur,  laissez,  laissez. 

K.  Hen.    Then  I  will  kiss  your  lips,  Kate. 

Kath.    II  n'est  pas  la  eoutume  de  France. 

K.  Hen.    Madam  my  interpreter,  what  says  she? 

Alice.  Dat  it  is  not  be  de  fashion  pour  les  ladies  of  Trance — 
I  can  not  tell  vat  is  baiser  en  Anglish. 

K.  Hen.    To  kiss. 

Alice.    Your  majesty  entendre  betti-e  que  moi. 

K.  Hen.  It  is  not  the  fashion  for  the  maids  in  France  to  kiss 
before  they  are  married,  would  you  say  ? 

Alice.    Oui,  vraiment. 

K.  Hen.  0  Kate,  nice  customs  curtsy  to  great  kings.  Dear 
Kate,  you  and  I  can  not  be  confined  within  the  weak  list  of  a 
country's  fashion :  we  are  the  makers  of  manners,  Kate ;  and  the 
liberty  that  follows  our  places  stops  the  mouth  of  all  find-faults; 
as  I  will  do  yours,  for  upholding  the  nice  fashion  of  your  country 
in  denying  me  a  kiss;  therefore,  patiently  and  yielding.  {Kisses 
her.)  You  have  witchcraft  in  your  lips,  Kate;  tliere  is  more  elo- 
quence in  a  sugar  touch  of  them  than  in  the  tongues  of  the  French 
council ;  and  they  should  sooner  jjersuade  Harry  of  England  than 
a  general  petition  of  monarchs. 


258  HUMOROUS    TUTS 

SCENE  FROM  "THE  RIVALS" 

BY  RICHARD  BRINSLEY  SHERIDAN 

Mrs.  31.  There,  Sir  Anthony,  there  stands  the  deliberate  sim- 
})leton  wlio  wants  to  disgrace  her  family  and  lavish  herself  on  a 
fellow  not  worth  a  shilling, 

Lyd.    Madam,  I  thought  you  once 

Mrs.  M.  You  thought,  miss!  I  don't  know  any  business  you 
have  to  think  at  all.  Thought  does  not  become  a  young  woman. 
But  the  point  we  would  request  of  you  is,  that  you  will  promise 
to  forget  this  fellow — to  illiterate  him,  I  say,  from  your  memory. 

Lyd.  Ah,  madam!  our  memories  are  independent  of  our  wills. 
It  is  not  so  easy  to  forget. 

Mrs.  M.  But  I  say  it  is,  miss!  There  is  nothing  on  earth  so 
easy  as  to  forget,  if  a  person  chooses  to  set  about  it.  I'm  sure  I 
have  as  much  forgot  your  poor,  dear  uncle  as  if  he  had  never  ex- 
isted, and  I  thought  it  my  duty  to  do  so;  and  let  me  tell  you, 
Lydia,  these  violent  memories  don't  become  a  young  woman. 

Sir  A.  Surely,  the  young  woman  does  not  pretend  to  remember 
what  she  is  ordered  to  forget!     Ah,  this  comes  of  her  reading. 

Lyd.  What  crime,  madam,  have  I  committed,  to  be  treated 
thus? 

Mrs.  M.  Now  don't  attempt  to  extirpate  yourself  from  the  mat- 
ter; you  know  I  have  proof  controvertible  of  it.  But  tell  me,  will 
you  promise  me  to  do  as  you  are  bid"?  Will  you  take  a  husband 
of  your  friends'  choosing? 

Lyd.  Madam,  I  must  tell  you  plainly  that,  had  I  no  prefer- 
ence for  any  one  else,  the  choice  you  have  made  would  be  my 
aversion. 

Mrs.  M.  What  business  have  you,  miss,  with  preference  and 
aversion?  They  don't  become  a  young  woman;  and  you  ought 
to  know  that,  as  both  always  wear  off,  'tis  safest,  in  matrimony, 
to  begin  with  a  little  aversion.  I  am  sure  I  hated  your  poor  dear 
uncle  before  man-iage  as  if  he'd  been  a  blackamoor,  and  yet, 
miss,  you  are  sensible  what  a  wife  I  made;  and,  when  it  pleased 
heaven  to  release  me  from  him,  'tis  unknown  what  tears  I  shed ! 

Sir  A.    He-e-m! 


HIBIOKOUS    HITS  259 

Mrs.  M.  But,  suppose  we  were  going  to  give  you  another 
choice,  will  you  promise  us  to  give  up  this  Beverley? 

Lyd.  Could  I  belie  my  thoughts  so  far  as  to  give  that  promise, 
my  actions  would  certainly  as  far  belie  my  words. 

Mrs.  M.  Take  yourself  to  your  room !  You  are  fit  company 
for  nothing  but  your  own  ill  humors. 

Lyd.    Willingly,  ma'am ;  I  can  not  change  for  the  worse.     [Exit. 

Mrs.  M.    There's  a  little  intricate  hussy  for  you ! 

Sir.  A.  It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  ma'am;  all  that  is  the  nat- 
ural consequence  of  teaching  girls  to  read.  In  my  way  hither, 
Mrs.  Malaprop,  I  observed  your  niece's  maid  coming  forth  from 
a,  cireiUating  library;  she  had  a  book  in  each  hand — they  were 
half-bound  volumes,  with  marble  covers.  From  that  moment,  I 
guessed  how  full  of  duty  I  should  see  her  mistress ! 

Mrs.  M.    Those  are  vile  jilaces,  indeed ! 

Sir  A.  Madam,  a  circulating  library  in  a  town  is  as  an  ever- 
green tree  of  diabolical  knowledge !  It  blossoms  through  the  year ! 
And,  depend  upon  it,  Mrs.  Malaprop,  that  they  who  are  so  fond 
of  handling  the  leaves,  will  long  for  the  fruit  at  last. 

Mrs.  M.  Fie,  fie,  Sir  Anthony;  you  surely  speak  laconically. 
{Sir  Anthony  places  a  chair  for  her  and  another  for  himself, 
hows  to  her  respectfully  and  waits  till  she  is  seated.) 

Sir  A.  Why,  Mrs.  Malaprop,  in  moderation,  now,  what  would 
you  have  a  woman  know? 

BIrs.  M.  Observe  me,  Sir  Anthony — I  would  by  no  means  wish 
a  daughter  of  mine  to  be  a  progeny  of  learning.  I  don't  think 
so  much  learning  becomes  a  young  woman.  For  instance — I 
would  never  let  her  meddle  with  Greek,  or  Hebrew,  or  algebra,  or 
simony,  or  Fluxions,  or  paradoxes,  or  such  inflammatory  branches 
of  learning;  nor  will  it  be  necessary  for  her  to  handle  any  of 
your  mathematical,  astronomical,  diabolical  instruments;  but.  Sir 
Anthony,  I  would  send  her,  at  nine  years  old,  to  a  boarding- 
school,  in  order  to  learn  a  little  ingenuity  and  artifice.  Then,  sir, 
she  should  have  a  supercilious  knowledge  in  accounts;  and,  as 
she  grew  up,  I  would  have  her  instructed  in  geometiy,  that  she 
might  know  something  of  the  contagious  countries;  above  all,  she 
should  be  a  perfect  mistress  of  orthodoxy — that  is,  she  should 
not  mispronounce  and  misspell  words  as  our  young  women  of  the 


260  HUMOKOUS    HITS 

present  day  constantly  do.  This,  Sir  Anthony,  is  what  I  would 
have  a  woman  know;  and  I  don't  think  there  is  a  superstitious 
article  in  it. 

Sir  A.  Well,  well,  Mrs.  Malaprop,  I  will  dispute  the  point  no 
further  with  you,  tho  I  must  confess  that  you  are  a  truly  moder- 
ate and  polite  arguer,  for  almost  eveiy  third  word  you  say  is  on 
my  side  of  the  question.  But  to  the  more  important  point  in  de- 
bate— you  say  you  have  no  objection  to  my  proposal? 

3Irs.  M.  None,  I  assure  you.  1  am  under  no  positive  engage- 
ment with  Mr.  Acres;  and  as  Lydia  is  so  obstinate  against  him, 
perhaps  your  son  may  have  better  success. 

Sir  A.  Well,  madam,  I  will  write  for  the  boy  directly.  He 
knows  not  a  syllable  of  this  yet,  tho  I  have  for  some  time  had  the 
proposal  in  my  head.    He  is  at  present  with  his  regiment. 

Mrs.  M.  We  have  never  seen  your  son.  Sir  Anthony;  but  I 
hope  no  objection  on  his  side. 

Sir  A.  Objection !  Let  him  object,  if  he  dare !  No,  no,  Mrs. 
Malaprop;  Jack  knows  that  the  least  demur  puts  me  in  a  frenzy 
directly.  My  process  was  always  very  simple.  In  his  younger 
days  'twas — "Jack,  do  this."  If  he  demurred,  I  knocked  him 
down;  and  if  he  grumbled  at  that,  I  always  sent  him  out  of  the 
room. 

Mrs.  M.  Ay,  and  the  properest  way,  o'  my  conscience!  Noth- 
ing is  so  conciliating  to  young  people  as  severity.  {Both  rise.) 
Well,  Sir  Anthony,  I  shall  give  Mr.  Acres  his  discharge,  and  pre- 
pare Lydia  to  receive  your  son's  invocations;  and  I  hope  you 
will  repi'esent  her  to  the  captain  as  an  object  not  altogether 
illegible. 

Sir  A.  Madam,  I  will  handle  the  subject  prudently.  I  must 
leave  you.  Good  morning,  Mrs.  Malaprop.  {Both  bow  profound- 
ly; Sir  Anthony  steps  back  as  if  to  go  out,  then  returns  to  say:) 
And  let  me  beg  you,  Mrs.  Malaprop,  to  enforce  this  matter 
roundly  to  the  girl — take  my  advice,  keep  a  tight  hand.  Good- 
morning,  Mrs.  Malaprop.  If  she  rejects  this  proposal,  clap  her 
under  lock  and  key.  Good-morning,  Mrs.  Malaprop.  And  if  you 
were  just  to  let  the  servants  forget  to  bring  her  dinner  for  three 
or  four  days,  you  can't  conceive  how  she'd  come  about.  Good- 
morning,  Mrs.  Malaprop. 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  261 

SCENES  FROM  "RIP  VAN  WINKLE" 

AS  RECITED  BY  THE  LATE  A.   P.   BURBANK 

Characters  :  Rip  Van  Winkle;  Derrick  Von  Beekman,  the  vil- 
lain of  the  i^lay,  who  endeavors  to  get  Rip  drunk  in  order  to  have 
him  sign  away  his  property  to  Von  Beekman;  Nick  Vedder,  the 
village  innkeeper. 

Scene  I:  The  village  inn.  Von  Beekman,  alone.  Enter  Rip, 
laughing  like  a  child  himself,  and  shaking  off  the  children. 

Rip  {to  the  children  outside).  Hey!  You  let  my  dog  Schnei- 
der alone  dere;  you  hear  dat,  Sock  der  Jacob,  der  bist  eine  for- 

donner   spitspoo — yah Why,   hullo,   Derrick!    how   you   was? 

Did  you  hear  dem  liddle  fellers  just  now?  Dey  most  plague  me 
crazy.  Ha,  ha,  ha!  I  like  to  laugh  my  outsides  in  eveiy  time  I 
tink  about  it.  Just  now,  as  we  was  comin'  through  the  willage — 
Schneider  und  me — Sclineider's  my  dog;  I  don't  know  whether 
you  know  him?  Well,  dem  liddle  fellers,  dey  took  Schneider  und 
— ha,  ha,  ha ! — dey — ha,  ha  ! — dey  tied  a  tin-kettle  mit  Schneider's 
tail!  Ha,  ha,  ha!  My,  how  he  did  run  den,  mit  the  kettle  bang- 
ing about !  My,  how  scared  he  was !  Well,  I  didn't  hi  him  comin'. 
He  run  betwixt  me  und  my  legs  und  spilt  me  und  all  dem  children 
in  the  mud, — yah,  dat's  a  fact.    Ha,  ha,  ha ! 

Derrick.  Ah,  yes,  that's  all  right,  Rip,  very  funny,  very  funny ; 
but  what  do  you  say  to  a  glass  of  liquor,  Rip  ? 

Rip.  What  do  I  generally  say  to  a  glass?  I  generally  say  it's 
a  fine  thing — when  dere's  plenty  in  it — und  I  say  more  to  what 
is  in  it  than  to  the  glass. 

Derrick.  Certainly,  certainly.  Say,  hello  there!  Nick  Ved- 
der, bring  out  a  bottle  of  your  best. 

Rip.  Dat's  right — fill  'em  up.  You  wouldn't  believe  it,  Der- 
rick, dat's  the  first  one  I've  had  to-day.  I  guess,  maybe,  the 
reason  is,  I  couldn't  got  it  before.  Ah,  Derrick,  my  score  is  too 
big !  Well,  here  is  your  good  health  und  your  family's,  und  may 
dey  all  live  long  und  prosper!  Ah,  you  may  well  go  "Ah"  und 
smack  your  chops  over  dat.  You  don't  give  me  such  schnapps 
when  I  come.    Where  you  got  dat? 


2G2  HUMOROUS    HITS 

Nick.  That's  high  Dutch,  Rip, — high  Dutch,  and  ten  years  iu 
bottlo. 

Rip.  Well,  come  on,  fill  'em  up  again.  Git  out  mit  dat  vater, 
Nick  Vedder;  I  don't  want  no  vater  in  my  liquor.  Good  liquor 
und  vater,  Derrick,  is  just  like  man  und  wife — dey  don't  agree 
well  togedder!  Dat's  me  und  my  wife,  anjnvay.  Well,  come  on 
again.  Here  is  your  good  health  und  your  family's,  und  may  dey 
all  live  long  und  prosper ! 

Nick.  That's  right.  Rip ;  drink  away,  and  "drown  your  sorrows 
in  the  flowing  bowl." 

Rip.  Drown  my  sorrows'?  Yah,  but  she  won't  drown.  My 
wife  is  my  sorrow  und  you  cannick  drown  her.  She  tried  it  once, 
but  she  couldn't  do  it.  Didn't  you  know  dat  Gretchen  like  to  get 
drown?  No?  Dat's  the  funniest  thing  of  the  whole  of  it.  It's 
the  same  day  I  got  married;  she  was  comin'  across  dat  Hudson 
River  dere  in  the  ferry-boat  to  get  married  mit  me. 

Derrick.    Yes. 

Rip.    Well,  the  boat  she  was  comin'  in  got  upsetted. 

Derrick.    Ah ! 

Rip.    Well,  but  she  wasn't  in  it. 

Nick.    Oh! 

Rip.  No,  dat's  what  I  say;  if  she  had  been  in  the  boat  what 
got  upsetted,  maybe  she  might  have  got  drowned.  She  got  left 
behind  somehow  or  odder.  Women  is  always  behind  dat  way — 
always. 

Derrick.  But  surely.  Rip,  you  would  have  risked  your  life  to 
save  her. 

Rip  (incredulously).  You  mean  I  would  yump  in  und  pull 
Gretchen  out?  Oh,  would  I?  Oh,  you  mean  den — yes,  I  believe 
I  would  den.  But  it  would  be  a  good  deal  more  my  duty  now 
as  it  was  den.  When  a  feller  gets  mai'ried  a  good  many  years 
mit  his  wife,  he  gets  very  much  attached  to  hei*.  But  if  Mrs.  Van 
Winkle  was  a-drownin'  in  the  water  now,  und  should  say  to  me, 
"Rip,  come  und  save  your  wife !"  I  would  say,  "Mrs.  Van  Winkle, 
I  will  yust  go  home  und  link  about  it!"  Oh,  no,  Derrick,  if  ever 
Gretchen  tumbles  in  the  water  now,  she's  got  to  swim;  I  told  you 
dat — ha,  ha,  ha,  ha!  Hullo!  dat's  her  a-comiii'  now;  I  s:uess  it's 
better  I  go  oud !  [Exit  Rip. 


HUMOEOUS    HITS  263 

Scene  II:  Rip's  humc.  Shortly  after  his  conversation  ivith 
Von  Beekman.,  7i'/^/s  wife  found  him  carousing  and  dancing  upon 
the  village  green  with  the  pretty  girls.  She  drove  him  away  in 
no  very  gentle  fashion.  Returning  home  after  nightfall  in  a  de- 
cidedly muddled  condition,  he  puts  his  head  through  the  open  win- 
dow at  the  rear,  not  observing  his  irate  loife,  who  stands  in  am- 
bush behind  the  clothes-press,  with  her  ever-ready  broomstick,  to 
give  him  a  warm  reception;  but  seeing  only  his  little  daughter 
Meenie,  of  whom  he  is  very  fond,  Rip  says: 

Rip.    Meenie  !  Meenie,  my  darlin' ! 

Meenie.  Hush-sli-h.  {Shakes  finger  to  indicate  the  presence  of 
her  mother.) 

Rip.  Ell!  what's  the  matter"?  I  don't  see  nothing,  my  darlin'. 
Meenie,  is  the  old  wildcat  home  ?  Oh,  say,  is  dot  you,  Gretchen  ? 
My  darlm',  my  angel,  don't  do  dat, — let  go  my  head,  won't  you? 
Well,  den,  hold  on  to  it  so  long  what  you  like.  For  what  you  do 
dat,  eh?     You  must  want  a  bald-headed  husband,  I  reckon. 

Gretchen.    Who  was  that  you  called  a  wildcat? 

Rip.  Who  was  dat  I  call  a  wildcat?  Well,  now,  let  me  see, 
who  was  dat  I  called  a  wildcat?  Dat  must  have  been  the  time  I 
came  in  the  window  dere,  wasn't  it  ?  Yes,  I  know,  it  was  the  same 
time.  Well,  now,  let  me  see.  [Suddenly.)  It  was  de  dog 
Schneider  dat  I  call  it. 

Gretchen.    The  dog  Schneider?    That's  a  likely  story. 

Rip.  Of  course  it  is  likely, — he's  my  dog.  I'll  call  him  a  wild- 
eat  much  as  I  please.  (Gretchen  begins  to  weep.)  Oh,  well;  dere, 
now,  don't  you  cry,  don't  you  cry,  Gretchen;  you  hear  what  I 
said?  Listen  now.  If  you  don't  cry,  I  nefer  drink  anoder  drop 
of  liquor  in  my  life. 

Gretchen.  0  Rip,  you  have  said  so  so  many,  many  times,  and 
you  never  kept  your  word  yet. 

Rip.    Well,  I  say  it  dis  time,  imd  I  mean  it. 

Gretchen.    O  Rip !  if  I  could  only  trust  you. 

Rip.  You  mustn't  suspect  me.  Can't  you  see  repentance  in  my 
eye? 

Gretchen.  Rip,  if  you  will  only  keep  your  word,  I  shall  be  the 
happiest  woman  in  the  world. 


264  HUMOEOUS    HITS 

Rip.  You  can  believe  it.  I  nefer  drink  anoder  drop  so  long 
-what  I  live,  if  you  don't  cry. 

Gretchen.  0  Riji,  how  happy  we  shall  be!  And  you'll  get 
back  all  the  village,  Eip,  just  as  you  used  to  have  it;  and  you'll 
fix  up  our  little  house  so  nicely;  and  you  and  I,  and  our  darling 
little  Meenie  here — how  haj^py  we  shall  be ! 

Rip.  Dere,  dere,  now !  you  can  be  just  so  happy  what  you  like. 
Go  in  de  odder  room,  go  along  mit  you;  I  come  in  dere  pooty 
quick.  {Exit  Gretchen  and  Meenie.)  My!  I  swore  off  from  drink- 
ing so  many,  many  times,  und  I  never  kept  my  word  yet.  {Taking 
out  bottle.)  I  don't  believe  dere  is  more  as  one  good  drink  in  dat 
bottle,  anywa3\  It's  a  pity  to  Avaste  it!  You  goin'  to  drink  dat? 
"Well,  now,  if  you  do,  it  is  de  last  one,  remember  dat,  old  feller. 
Well,  here  is  your  good  health,  und 

{Enter  Gretchen,  suddenly,  who  snatches  the  battle  from  him.) 

Gretchen.    Oh,  you  paltry  thief! 

Rip.    What  you  doin'?   You'll  spill  the  liquor. 

Gretchen.  Yes,  I  tvill  spUl  it.  That's  the  last  drop  you  drink 
under  my  roof! 

Rip.    Eh!   What? 

Gretchen.    Out,  I  say !    you  drink  no  more  here. 

Rip.  Why,  Gretchen,  are  you  goin'  to  turn  me  oud  like  a  dog? 
Well,  maybe  you  are  right.  I  have  got  no  home.  I  will  go.  But 
mind,  Gretchen,  after  what  you  say  to  me  to-night,  I  can  nefer 
darken  your  door  again — nefer;  I  will  go. 

Meenie.     Not  into  the  storm,  father.     Hark,  how  it  thunders! 

Rip.  Yah,  my  child;  but  not  as  bad  to  me  as  the  storm  in  my 
home.  I  will  go.  God  bless  you,  my  child !  Don't  you  nefer  for- 
get your  father. 

Gretchen  {relenting).     No,  Rip, — I 

Rip.  No;  you  have  driven  me  from  your  house.  You  have 
opened  the  door  for  me  to  go.  You  may  nefer  open  it  for  me 
to  come  back.  I  wipe  the  disgrace  from  your  door.  Good-by, 
Gretchen,  good-by!  [Rip  exits  into  the  storm. 


PART  III 

SERIOUS    HITS 


SERIOUS    HITS  267 

IF  WE  HAD  THE  TIME 

BY  RICHARD  BURTON 

If  I  had  the  time  to  find  a  place 
And  sit  me  down  full  face  to  face 

With  my  better  self,  that  can  not  show 

In  my  daily  life  that  rushes  so : 
It  might  be  then  I  woiild  see  my  soul 
Was  stumbling  toward  the  shining  goal, 

I  might  be  nerved  by  the  thought  sublime, — 
If  I  had  the  time! 

If  I  had  the  time  to  let  my  heart 

Speak  out  and  take  in  my  life  apart, 
To  look  about  and  to  stretch  a  hand 
To  a  comrade  quartered  in  no-luck  land; 

Ah,  God !   If  I  might  but  just  sit  still 

And  hear  the  note  of  the  whippoorwill, 

I  think  that  my  wish  with  God's  would  rhyme, — 
If  I  "had  the  time ! 

If  I  had  the  tune  to  learn  from  you 

How  much  comfort  my  word  could  do; 

And  I  told  you  then  of  my  sudden  will 
To  kiss  your  feet  when  I  did  you  ill ; 

If  the  tears  aback  of  the  coldness  feigned 

Could  flow,  and  the  wrong  be  quite  explained, — 
Brothers,  the  souls  of  us  all  would  chime, 
If  we  had  the  time ! 

By  permission  of  the  author  and  of  the  publishers,  Lothrop,  Lee  &  Shepard 
Company,  Boston. 


268  SERIOUS    HITS 

THE   FOOL'S   PRAYER 

BY  EDWARD  ROWLAND  SILL 

The  royal  feast  was  done;  the  king 
Sought  some  new  sport  to  banish  care, 

And  to  his  jester  cried :  "Sir  Fool, 

Kneel  now,  and  make  for  us  a  jDrayer!" 

The  jester  doffed  his  cap  and  bells, 
And  stood  the  mocking  court  before: 

They  could  not  see  the  bitter  smile 
Behind  the  patient  grin  he  wore. 

He  bowed  his  head,  and  bent  his  knee 
Upon  the  monarch's  silken  stool; 

His  pleading  voice  arose,  "0  Lord, 
Be  merciful  to  me,  a  fool ! 

"No  pity,  Lord,  could  change  the  heart 
From  red  with  wrong  to  white  as  wool; 

The  rod  must  heal  the  sin;  but,  Lord, 
Be  merciful  to  me,  a  fool ! 

"  'Tis  not  by  guilt  the  onward  sweep 
Of  truth  and  right,  O  Lord,  we  stay; 

'Tis  by  our  follies  that  so  long 

We  hold  the  earth  from  heaven  away. 

"These  clumsy  feet  still  in  the  mii'e. 
Go  crushing  blossoms  without  end; 

These  hard,  well-meaning  hands  we  thrust 
Among  the  heartstrings  of  a  friend. 

"The  ill-timed  truth  we  might  have  kept, — 
[  Who  knows  how  sharp  it  pierced  and  stung? 

The  word  we  had  not  sense  to  say, — 
Who  knows  how  grandly  it  had  rung? 


SERIOUS    HITS  269 

"Our  faults  no  tenderness  should  ask, 

The  chastening  stripe  must  cleanse  them  all; 

But  for  our  blunders, — oh,  m  shame 
Before  the  eyes  of  heaven  we  fall. 

"Earth  bears  no  balsam  for  mistakes ; 

Men  crown  the  knave,  and  scourge  the  tool 
That  did  his  will ;  but  Thou,  0  Lord, 

Be  merciful  to  me,  a  fool !" 

The  room  was  hushed;  in  silence  rose 
The  king,  and  sought  his  garden  cool, 

And  walked  apart,  and  murmured  low : 
"Be  merciful  to  me,  a  fool !" 

THE   EVE   OF  WATERLOO 

BY  LORD  BYRON 

There  was  a  sound  of  revelry  by  night. 
And  Belgium's  capital  had  gathered  then 
Her  beauty  and  her  chivalry,  and  bright 
The  lamps  shone  o'er  fair  women  and  brave  men; 
A  thousand  hearts  beat  happily;  and  when 
Music  arose  with  its  voluptuous  swell. 
Soft  eyes  looked  love  to  eyes  which  spake  again, 
And  all  went  merry  as  a  maiTiage-bell ; — 
But  hush !  hark !  a  deep  sound  strikes  like  a  rising  knell ! 

Did  ye  not  hear  it  ? — No ;  'twas  but  the  wind. 
Or  a  car  rattling  o'er  the  stony  street; 
On  with  the  dance!  let  joy  be  unconfined; 
No  sleep  till  morn,  when  youth  and  pleasure  meet 
To  chase  the  glowing  hours  with  flying  feet — 
But  hark ! — that  heavy  sound  breaks  in  once  more, 
As  if  the  clouds  its  echo  would  repeat; 
And  nearer,  clearer,  deadlier  than  before ! 
Arm!  ann!  it  is — it  is  the  cannon's  opening  roar! 


270  SEEIOUS    HITS 

Ah !  ilioii  and  there  was  hurrying-  to  and  fro, 
And  gathering  tears,  and  tremblings  of  distress, 
And  clieeks  all  pale,  which  but  an  hour  ago 
Blushed  at  the  praise  of  tlieir  own  loveliness; 
And  there  were  sudden  partings,  such  as  press 
The  life  from  out  j^oung  hearts,  and  choking  sighs 
Which  ne'er  might  be  repeated :  wdio  could  guess 
If  ever  more  should  meet  those  mutual  eyes, 
Smce  upon  night  so  sweet  such  awful  morn  could  rise? 

And  there  was  mounting  in  hot  haste :  the  steed. 
The  mustering  squadron,  and  the  clattering  car. 
Went  pouring  forward  with  impetuous  speed. 
And  swiftly  forming  in  the  ranks  of  war; 
And  the  deep  thvuider  peal  on  peal  afar. 
And  near,  the  beat  of  the  alarming  drum 
Roused  up  the  soldier  ere  the  morning  star; 
While  thronged  the  citizens  with  terror  dumb. 
Or  whispering,  with  white  lips,  "The  foe !  They  come !  they  come !" 

And  Ardennes  waves  above  them  her  green  leaves, 
Dewy  with  Nature's  tear-drops,  as  they  pass. 
Grieving,  if  aught  inanimate  e'er  grieves, 
Over  the  unreturning  brave, — alas! 
Ere  evening  to  be  trodden  like  the  grass, 
Which  now  beneath  them,  but  above  shall  grow 
In  its  next  verdure,  when  this  fiery  mass 
Of  living  valor,  rolling  on  the  foe 
And  burning  with  high  hope,  shall  molder  cold  and  low. 

Last  noon  l^elicld  them  full  of  lusty  life, 
Last  eve  in  Beauty's  circle  proudly  gay, 
The  midnight  brought  the  signal-sound  of  strife, 
The  morn,  the  marshaling  in  arms, — the  day. 
Battle's  magnificently  stern  array! 
The  thunder-clouds  close  o'er  it,  which  when  rent, 
The  earth  is  covered  thick  with  other  clay, 
Which  her  own  clay  shall  cover,  heaped  and  pent, 
Rider  and  horse,  friend,  foe,  in  one  red  burial  blent. 


SEEIOUS    HITS  271 

THE  WRECK   OF  THE  JULIE   PLANTE 

BY    WILLIAM   HEKRY   DRUMMOXD 

On  wan  dark  niglit  on  Lac  St.  Pierre, 

De  win'  she  blow,  blow,  blow, 
An'  de  crew  of  de  wood  scow  Julie  Plante 

Got  scar't  an'  run  below — 
For  de  win'  she  blow  lak  hurricane; 

Bimeby  she  blow  some  more. 
An'  de  scov  bus'  up  on  Lac  St.  Pierre 

Wan  arpent  from  de  shore. 

De  captinne  walk  on  de  fronte  deck, 

An'  walk  de  bin'  deck,  too — 
He  call  de  crew  from  up  de  hole; 

He  call  de  cook  also. 
De  cook  she's  name  was  Rosie, 

She  come  from  Montreal, 
Was  ehambre  maid  on  lumber  barge. 

On  de  Grande  Lachme  Canal. 

De  win'  she  blow  from  nor' — eas' — wes', 

De  sout'  win'  she  blow,  too, 
W'en  Rosie  cry,  ''Mon  cher  captinne, 

Mon  cher,  w'at  shall  I  do?" 
Den  de  captinne  t'row  de  big  ankerre, 

But  still  the  scow  she  dreef, 
De  crew  he  can't  pass  on  de  shore, 

Becos'  he  los'  hees  skeef, 

De  night  was  dark  lak  wan  black  cat, 

De  wave  run  high  an'  fas', 
Wen  de  captinne  tak  de  Rosie  girl 

An'  tie  her  to  de  mas'. 
Den  he  also  tak  de  life  preserve 

An'  jump  off  on  de  lak' 
An'  say,  "Good-by,  ma  Rosie,  dear, 

I  go  drown  for  your  sak." 


272 


SEEIOUS    HITS 


Nex'  morning  very  early 

'Bout  ba'f-pas'  two — free — four — 
De  captinne — scow — an'  de  poor  Rosie 

Was  corpses  on  de  shore. 
For  de  win'  she  1)hiw  Ink  hurricane; 

Binieby  she  blow  some  more, 
An'  de  scow  bus'  up  on  Lac  St.  Pierre 

Wan  arpent  from  de  shore. 

Now,  all  good  wood  scow  sailor  man 

Tak'  warning  by  dat  storm 
An'  go  an'  marry  some  nice  French  girl 

An'  leev  on  wan  beeg  farm. 
De  win'  can  blow  lak'  hurricane 

An  s'pose  she  blow  some  more, 
You  can't  get  drown  on  Lac  St.  Pierre 

So  long  you  stay  on  shore. 

From  "  The  Habitant,"  by  permission  of  the  publishers,  G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons, 
New  York  and  London. 


FATHER'S   WAY 

BY  EUGENE  FIELD 

My  father  was  no  pessimist;  he  loved  the  things  of  earth, — 

Its  cheerfulness  and  sunshine,  its  nuisic  and  its  mirth. 

He  never  sighed  or  moped  around  whenever  things  went  wrong, — 

I  warrant  me  he'd  mocked  at  fate  with  some  defiant  song; 

But,  being  he  warn't  much  on  tune,  when  times  looked  sort  o'  blue, 

He'd  whistle  softly  to  himself  this  only  tune  he  knew, — 


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SEEIOUS    HITS  273 

Now  mother,  when  she  heard  that  tune  which  father  whistled  so, 
Would  say,  "There's  something  wrong  to-day  with  Ephraim,  I 

know; 
He  never  tries  to  make  believe  he's  happy  that  'ere  way 
But  that  I'm  certain  as  can  be  there's  somethin'  wrong  to  pay." 
And  so  betimes,  quite  natural-like,  to  us  observant  youth 
There  seemed  suggestion  in  that  time  of  deep,  pathetic  truth. 

When  Brother  William  joined  the  war,  a  lot  of  us  went  down 
To  see  the  gallant  soldier  boys  right  gayly  out  of  town. 
A-comin'  home,  poor  mother  cried  as  if  her  heart  would  break, 
And  all  us  children,  too, — for  hers,  and  not  for  William's  sake! 
But  father,  trudgin'  on  ahead,  his  hands  behind  him  so. 
Kept  whistlin'  to  himself,  so  sort  of  solemn-like  and  low. 

And  when  my  oldest  sister.  Sue,  was  married  and  went  West, 

Seemed  like  it  took  the  tuck  right  out  of  mother  and  the  rest. 

She  was  the  sunlight  in  our  home, — why,  father  used  to  say 

It  wouldn't  seem  like  home  at  all  if  Sue  should  go  away ; 

But  when  she  went,  a-leavin'  us  all  sorrer  and  all  tears, 

Poor  father  whistled  lonesome-like — and  went  to  feed  the  steers. 

When  crops  were  bad,  and  other  ills  befell  our  homely  lot, 
He'd  set  of  nights  and  try  to  act  as  if  he  minded  not; 
And  when  came  death  and  bore  away  the  one  he  worshiped  so, 
How  vainly  did  his  lips  belie  the  heart  benumbed  with  wo ! 
You  see  the  telltale  whistle  told  a  mood  he'd  not  admit, — 
He'd  always  stopt  his  whistlin'  when  he  thought  we  noticed  it. 

I'd  like  to  see  that  stooping  fonn  and  hoary  head  again, — 
To  see  the  honest,  hearty  smile  that  cheered  his  feUow  men. 
Oh,  could  I  kiss  the  kindly  lips  that  spake  no  creature  wi'ong, 
And  share  the  rapture  of  the  heart  that  overflowed  with  song! 
Oh,  could  I  hear  the  little  tune  he  whistled  long  ago. 
When  he  did  battle  with  the  griefs  he  would  not  have  us  know ! 


274  SERIOUS    HITS 

I  AM  CONTENT 

TRANSLATED    BY   CARMEN    SYLVA 

A  spindle  of  hazclwood  had  I; 

Into  the  mill-stream  it  fell  one  day — 

The  water  has  brought  it  me  back  no  more. 

As  he  lay  a-dying,  the  soldier  spake : 

"I  am  content ! 
Let  my  mother  be  told  in  the  village  there, 
And  my  bride  in  the  hut  be  told, 
That  they  must  pray  with  folded  hands. 
With  folded  hands  for  me." 
The  soldier  is  dead — and  with  folded  hands. 

His  bride  and  his  mother  pray. 
On  the  field  of  battle  they  dug  his  grave, 
And  red  with  his  life-blood  the  earth  was  dyed, 

The  earth  they  laid  him  in. 
The  sun  looked  down  on  him  there  and  spake : 
"I  am  content." 

And  flowers  bloomed  thickly  iipon  his  grave. 

And  were  glad  they  blossomed  there. 
And  when  the  wind  in  the  tree-tops  roared. 
The  soldier  asked  from  the  deep,  dark  grave : 

"Did  the  banner  flutter  then  f 
"Not  so,  my  hero,"  the  wind  replied, 
"The  fight  is  done,  but  the  banner  won, 
Thy  comrades  of  old  have  borne  it  hence, 

Have  borne  it  in  triumph  hence." 
Then  the  soldier  spake  from  the  deep,  dark  grave : 
"I  am  content." 


SERIOUS    HITS  275 

And  again  he  hears  the  shepherds  pass, 

And  the  flocks  go  wand'ring  by, 
And  the  soldier  asked :  "Is  the  sound  I  hear, 
The  sound  of  the  battle's  roarf 
And  they  replied :  "My  hero,  nay ! 
Thou  art  dead  and  the  fight  is  o'er. 
Our  country  joyful  and  free." 
Then  the  soldier  spake  from  the  deep,  dark  grave : 
"I  am  content." 

Then  he  heareth  the  lovers,  laughing,  pass. 

And  the  soldier  asks  once  more: 
"Are  these  not  the  voices  of  them  that  love, 

That  love — and  remember  mef 
"Not  so,  my  hero,"  the  lovers  say, 
"We  are  those  that  remember  not; 
For  the  spring  has  come  and  the  earth  has  smiled. 

And  the  dead  must  be  forgot." 
Then  the  soldier  spake  from  the  deep,  dark  grave : 
"I  am  content." 

A  spindle  of  hazehvood  had  I; 

Into  the  mill-stream  it  fell  one  day — 

The  water  has  brought  it  me  back  no  more. 


THE   EAGLE'S   SONG 

BY   RICHABD    MANSFIELD 

The  lioness  whelped,  and  the  sturdy  cub 

"Was  seized  by  an  eagle  and  carried  up 

And  homed  for  a  while  in  an  eagle's  nest, 

And  slept  for  a  while  on  an  eagle's  breast, 

And  the  eagle  taught  it  the  eagle's  song: 

"To  be  staunch  and  valiant  and  free  and  strong  I" 


276  SERIOUS    HITS 

The  lion  wlielp  sprang  from  the  eerie  nest, 
From  the  lol'ty  crag  where  the  queen  birds  rest; 
He  fought  the  king  on  the  spreading  plain, 
And  drove  him  back  o'er  the  foaming  main. 

He  held  the  land  as  a  thrifty  chief, 
And  reared  his  cattle  and  reaped  his  sheaf, 
Nor  sought  the  help  of  a  foreign  hand. 
Yet  welcomed  all  to  his  own  free  land ! 

Two  Avere  the  sons  that  the  country  bore 
To  the  Northern  lakes  and  the  Southern  shore, 
And  Chivahy  dwell  with  the  Southern  son, 
And  Industry  lived  with  the  Northern  one. 
Tears  for  the  time  when  they  broke  and  fought ! 
Tears  was  the  price  of  the  union  wrought ! 
And  the  land  was  red  in  a  sea  of  blood, 
Where  brother  for  brother  had  swelled  the  flood ! 

And  now  that  the  two  are  one  again, 
Behold  on  their  shield  the  word  "Refrain !" 
And  the  lion  cubs  twain  sing  the  eagle's  song, 
"To  be  staunch  and  valiant  and  free  and  strong!" 
For  the  eagle's  beak  and  the  lion's  paw, 
And  the  lion's  fangs  and  the  eagle's  claw, 
And  the  eagle's  swoop  and  the  lion's  might. 
And  the  lion's  leap  and  the  eagle's  sight. 
Shall  guard  the  flag  with  the  word  "Refrain !" 
Now  that  the  two  are  one  again ! 
Here's  to  a  cheer  for  the  Yankee  siiips! 
And  "Well  done,  Sam,"  fi'om  the  mother's  lips! 


SERIOUS  HITS  277 

BREAK,  BREAK,  BREAK 

BY  ALFRED,  LORD   TENNYSON 

Break,  break,  break, 

On  thy  cold  gray  stones,  0  sea! 
And  I  would  that  my  tongue  could  utter 

The  thoughts  that  arise  in  me. 

0  well  for  the  fisherman's  boy, 

That  he  shouts  with  his  sister  at  play ! 
0  well  for  the  sailor  lad. 

That  he  sings  in  his  boat  on  the  baylf 

And  the  stately  ships  go  on 

To  their  haven  under  the  hUl; 
But  0  for  the  touch  of  a  vanish'd  hand, 

And  the  sound  of  a  voice  that  is  still !  ^ 

Break,  break,  break. 

At  the  foot  of  thy  crags,  0  sea ! 
But  the  tender  grace  of  a  day  that  is  dead 

"Will  never  come  back  to  me. 


VIRGINIUS 

BY  MACAULAY 

Straightway  Virginius  led  the  maid  a  little  space  aside, 

To  where  the  reeking  shambles  stood,  piled  up  with  horn  and  hide. 

Hard  by,  a  butcher  on  a  block  had  laid  his  whittle  down, — 

Virginius  caught  the  whittle  up,  and  hid  it  in  his  gown. 

And  then  his  eyes  grew  very  dim,  and  his  throat  began  to  swell, 

And  in  a  hoarse,  changed  voice  he  spake,  "Farewell,  sweet  child, 

farewell ! 
The  house  that  was  the  happiest  within  the  Roman  walls, — 
The  house  that  envied  not  the  wealth  of  Capua's  marble  halls, 
Now,  for  the  brightness  of  thy  smile,  must  have  eternal  gloom, 
And  for  the  music  of  thy  voice,  the  silence  of  the  tomb. 


278  SERIOUS    HITS 

"The  time  is  come.    The  tyrant  points  his  eager  hand  this  way; 
See  how  his  eyes  gloat  on  thy  grief,  like  a  kite's  upon  the  prey; 
With  all  his  wit  he  little  deems  that  spurned,  betrayed,  bereft, 
Thy  father  hath,  in  his  despair,  one  fearful  refuge  left; 
He  little  deems  that,  in  my  hand,  I  clutch  what  still  can  save 
Thy  gentle  youth  from  taunts  and  blows,  the  portion  of  the  slave ; 
Yea,  and  from  nameless  evil,  that  passeth  taunt  and  blow, — 
Foul  outrage,  which  thou  knowest  not, — which  thou  shalt  nevei- 

know. 
Then  clasp  me  round  the  neck  once  more,  and  give  me  one  moie 

kiss; 
And  now,  mine  own  dear  little  girl,  there  is  no  way  but  this !" 
With  that  he  lifted  high  the  steel,  and  smote  her  in  the  side. 
And  in  her  blood  she  sank  to  earth,  and  with  one  sob  she  died. 
Then,  for  a  little  moment,  all  the  people  held  their  breath; 
And  through  the  crowded  forum  was  stillness  as  of  death; 
And  in  another  moment  broke  forth  from  one  and  all 
A  cry  as  if  the  Volscians  were  coming  o'er  the  wall; 
Till,  with  white  lips  and  bloodshot  eyes,  Virginius  tottered  nigh, 
And  stood  before  the  judgment  seat,  and  held  the  knife  on  high: 
"0  dwellers  in  the  nether  gloom,  avengers  of  the  slain, 
By  this  dear  blood  I  cry  to  you,  do  right  between  us  twain ; 
And  e'en  as  Appius  Claudius  has  dealt  by  me  and  mine. 
Deal  you  by  Appius  Claudius  and  all  the  Claudian  line!" 
So  spake  the  slayer  of  his  child;  then  where  the  body  lay, 
Pausing,  he  cast  one  haggai'd  glance,  and  turned  and  went  his  way. 
Then  up  sprang  Appius  Claudius:  "Stop  him,  alive  or  dead! 
Ten  pounds  of  copper  to  the  man  who  brings  his  head !" 
He  looked  upon  his  clients,  but  none  would  work  his  will; 
He  looked  upon  his  lictors,  but  they  trembled  and  stood  still. 
And  as  Virginius  through  the  press  his  way  in  sUence  cleft, 
Ever  the  mighty  multitude  fell  back  to  right  and  left; 
And  he  hath  passed  in  safety  unto  his  woful  home. 
And  there  ta'en  horse,  to  tell  the  camp  what  deeds  are  done  in 

Rome. 


SEEIOUS    HITS  279 

THE  WOMEN  OF  MUMBLES  HEAD 

BY   CLEMENT   SCOTT 

Bring,  novelist,  your  note-book!  bring,  dramatist,  your  penl 

And  I'll  tell  you  a  simple  story  of  Avhat  women  do  for  men. 

It's  only  a  tale  of  a  life-boat,  of  tbe  dying  and  the  dead. 

Of  tbe  terrible  storm  and  shipwreck  that  happened  off  Mumbles 
Head! 

Maybe  you  have  traveled  in  Wales,  sir,  and  know  it  north  and 
south ; 

Maybe  you  are  friends  with  the  "natives"  that  dwell  at  Oyster- 
mouth  ; 

It  hapi:)ens,  no  doubt,  that  from  Bristol  you've  crossed  in  a  casual 
way. 

And  have  sailed  your  yacht  in  the  summer  in  the  blue  of  Swansea 
Bay. 

Well!  it  isn't  like  that  in  the  winter,  when  the  lighthouse  stands 

alone, 
In  the  teeth  of  Atlantic  breakers  that  foam  on  its  face  of  stone; 
It  wasn't  like  that  when  the  hurricane  blew,  and  the  storm-bell 

tolled,  or  when 
There  was  news  of  a  wreck,  and  the  lifeboat  launched,  and  a 

desperate  cry  for  men. 
When  in  the  world  did  the  coxswain  shirk?  a  brave  old  salt  was 

he! 
Proud  to  the  bone  of  as  four  strong  lads  as  ever  had  tasted  the 

sea, 
Welshmen  all  to  the  lungs  and  loins,  who,  about  that  coast,  'twas 

said. 
Had  saved  some  hundred  lives  apiece — at  a  shilling  or  so  a  head ! 

So  the  father  launched  the  life-boat,  in  the  teeth  of  the  tempest's 

roar, 
And  he  stood  like  a  man  at  the  rudder,  with  an  eye  on  his  boys 

at  the  oar. 
Out  to  the  wreck  went  the  father !  out  to  the  wreck  went  the  sons ! 
Leaving  the  weeping  women,  and  booming  of  signal  guns; 


280  SERIOUS    HITS    ■ 

Leaving  the  mother  who  loved  them,  and  the  girls  that  the  sailors 
love ; 

Going  to  death  for  duty,  and  trusting  to  God  above ! 

Do  you  murmur  a  prayer,  my  brothers,  when  cozy  and  safe  in 
bed, 

For  men  like  these,  who  are  ready  to  die  for  a  wreck  off  Mum- 
bles Head? 

It  didn't  go  well  with  the  life-boat!  'twas  a  terrible  storm  that 
blew ! 

And  it  snapped  the  rope  in  a  second  that  was  flung  to  the  drown- 
ing crew; 

And  then  the  anchor  parted — 'twas  a  tussle  to  keep  afloat! 

But  the  father  stuck  to  the  rudder,  and  the  boys  to  the  brave  old 
boat. 

Then  at  last  on  the  jDoor  doomed  life-boat  a  wave  broke  moun- 
tains high ! 

"God  help  us  now !"  said  the  father.  "It's  over,  my  lads !  Good-by  !*' 

Half  of  the  crew  swam  shoreward,  half  to  the  sheltered  eaves. 

But  the  father  and  sons  were  fighting  death  in  the  foam  of  the 
angry  waves. 

Up  at  the  lighthouse  window  two  women  beheld  the  storm. 

And  saw  in  the  boiling  breakers  a  figure, — a  fighting  form ; 

It  might  be  a  gray-haired  father,  then  the  Avoraen  held  their 
breath ; 

It  might  be  a  fair-haired  brother,  who  was  having  a  round  with 
death ; 

It  might  be  a  lover,  a  husband,  whose  kisses  were  on  the  lips 

Of  the  women  whose  love  is  the  life  of  men  going  down  to  the  sea 
in  ships. 

They  had  seen  the  launch  of  the  life-boat,  they  had  seen  the  worst, 
and  more. 

Then,  kissing  each  other,  these  women  went  down  from  the  light- 
house, straight  to  shore. 

There  by  the  rocks  on  the  breakers  these  sisters,  hand  in  hand. 
Beheld  once  more  that  desperate  man  who  struggled  to  reach  the 
land. 


SERIOUS    HITS  281 

'Twas  only  aid  be  wanted  to  help  him  across  the  wave, 
But  what  are  a  couple  of  women  with  only  a  man  to  save? 
What  are  a  couple  of  women?  well,  more  than  three  craven  men 
"Who  stood  by  the  shore  with  chattering  teeth,  refusing  to  stir — 

and  then 
Oft'  went  the  women's  shawls,  sir;  in  a  second  they're  torn  and 

)'ent. 
Then  knotting  them  into  a  rope  of  love,  straight  into  the  sea  they 

went ! 

"Come  back !"  cried  the  lighthouse-keeper.    "For  God's  sake,  girls, 

come  back!" 
As  they  caught  the  waves  on  their  foreheads,  resisting  the  fierce 

attack. 
"Come  back !"  moaned  the  gray-haired  mother,  as  she  stood  by  the 

angry  sea, 
"If  the  waves  take  you,  my  darlings,  there's  nobody  left  to  me!" 
"Come  back!"  said  the  three  strong  soldiers,  who  still  stood  faint 

and  pale, 
"You  will  drown  if  you  face  the  breakers!  you  will  fall  if  you 

brave  the  gale !" 
"Come  hack?"  said  the  girls,  "we  Avill  not!  go  tell  it  to  all  the 

town. 
We'll  lose  our  lives,  God  willing,  before  that  man  shall  drown !" 

"Give  one  more  knot  to  the  shawls,  Bess!  give  one  strong  clutch 

of  your  hand! 
Just  follow  me,  brave,  to  the  shingle,  and  we'll  bring  him  safe 

to  land ! 
Wait  for  the  next  wave,  darling !  only  a  minute  more, 
And  I'll  have  him  safe  in  my  arms,  dear,  and  we'll  drag  him  to 

the  shore." 
Up  to  the  arms  in  the  water,  fighting  it  breast  to  breast, 
They  caught  and  saved  a  brother  alive.    God  bless  them !  you  know 

the  rest — 
Well,  many  a  heart  beat  stronger,  and  many  a  tear  was  shed. 
And  many  a  glass  was  tossed  right  off  to  "The  Women  of  Mumbles 

Head !"  ^ 


282  SERIOUS    HITS 

WILLIAM  TELL  AND  HIS  BOY 

BY    WILLIAM    BAINE 

"Place  there  the  boy,"  the  tyrant  said; 
"Fix  me  the  apple  on  his  head. 

Ha!  rebel,  now! 
There's  a  fair  mark  for  your  shaft; 
To  yonder  shining  apple  waft 
An  arrow."     And  the  tyrant  laughed. 

With  quivering  brow. 
Bold  Tell  looked  there;  his  cheek  turned  pale; 
His  proud  lips  throbbed  as  if  would  fail 

Their  quivering  breath. 
"Ha !  doth  he  blanch  f '  fierce  Gesler  cried, 
"I've  conquered,  slave,  thy  soul  of  pride." 
No  voice  to  that  stern  taunt  replied, 

All  mute  as  death. 

"And  what  the  meed?"  at  length  Tell  asked. 
"Bold  fool,  when  slaves  like  thee  are  tasked. 

It  is  my  will. 
But  that  thine  eye  may  keener  be. 
And  nerved  to  such  nice  archery. 
If  thou  cleav'st  yon,  thou  goest  free. 

What!  pause  you  still? 
Give  him  a  bow  and  arrow  there 
One  shaft — but  one."  Gleams  of  despair 
Rush  for  a  moment  o'er  the  Switzer's  face: 
Then   passed  away  each  stormy  trace. 
And  high  resolve  came  in  their  place. 

Unmoved,  yet  flushed, 
"I  take  thy  terms,"  he  muttered  low, 
Grasped  eagerly  the  proffered  bow — 

The  quiver  searched. 
Sought  out  an  arrow  keen  and  long. 
Fit  for  a  sinewy  arm,  and  strong. 
And   placed   it   on   the   sounding  thong 

The  tough  yew  arched. 


SERIOUS    HITS  283 

He  di'ew  the  bow,  whilst  all  around 
That  thronging  crowd  there  was  no  sound, 

No  step,  no  word,  no  breath. 
All  gazed  with  an  unerring  eye. 
To  see  the  fearful  arrow  fly; 
The  light  wind  dies  into  a  sigh, 

And  scarcely  stirred. 
Afar  the  boy  stood,  firm  and  mute; 
He  saw  the  strong  bow  curved  to  shoot, 

But  never  moved. 
He  knew  the  daring  coolness  of  that  hand 
He  knew  it  was  a  father  scanned 

The  boy  he  loved. 

The  Switzer  gazed — the  arrow  hung 
''My  only  boy!"  sobbed  on  his  tongue; 

He  could  not  shoot. 
"Ha!"  cried  the  tyrant,  "doth  he  quail? 
Mark  how  his  haughty  brow  grows  pale !" 
But  a  deep  voice  rung  on  the  gale — 

"Shoot  in  God's  name!" 
Again  the  drooping  shaft  he  took, 
And  turned  to  Heaven  one  burning  look, 

Of  all  doubts  reft. 
"Be  firm,  my  boy !"  was  all  he  said. 
The   apple's  left   the   stripling's  head. 

Ha!  Ha!  'tis  cleft! 
And  so  it  was,  and  Tell  was  free. 
Quick  the  brave  boy  was  at  his  knee 

With  rosy  cheek. 

His  loying  arms  his  boy  embrace; 
But  again  that  tyrant  cried  in  haste, 
"An  arrow  in  thy  belt  is  placed ; 

What  means  it?     Speak"; 
The  Switzer  raised  his  clenched  hand  high, 
Whilst  lightning  flashed  across  his  eye 

Incessantly. 


284  SEBIOUS   HITS 

"To  smite  thee,  tj'rant,  to  the  heart, 
Had  Heaven  willed  it  that  my  dart 

Had  touched  my  boy." 
"Rebellion !  Treason !     cham  the  slave !" 
A  hundred  swords  around  him  wave, 
Whilst  hate  to  Gesler's  features  gave 

Infuriate  joy. 

But  that  one  arrow   found  its  goal 
Hid  with  revenge  in  Gesler's  soul; 

And   Lucerne's  lake 
Heard  his  dastard  soul  outmoan 
When   Freedom's  call  abroad  was  blown, 
And  Switzerland,  a  giant  grown. 

Her  fetters  brake. 
From  hill  to  hill  the  mandate  flew. 
From  lake  to  lake  the  tempest  grew, 

With  wakening  swell, 
Till  proud  oppression  crouched  for  shame, 
And  Austria's  haughtiness  grew  tame 
And  Freedom's  watchword  was  the  name  of 

William  Tell. 


LASCA 

BY  F.  DESPREZ 

I  want  free  life  and  I  want  fresh  air; 

And  I  sigh  for  the  canter  after  the  cattle, 

The  crack  of  the  whij^s  like  shots  in  battle, 

The  mellay  of  horns,  and  hoofs,  and  lieads 

That  wars,  and  wrangles,  and  scatters,  and  spreads; 

The  green  beneath  and  the  blue  above, 

And  dasli  and  danger  and  life  and  love. 

And  Lasca!    Lasca  used  to  ride 

On  a  mouse-gray  mustang,  close  to  my  side. 

With  blue  scrape  and  bright-belled  spur; 

I  laughed  witli  joy  as  I  looked  at  lier! 


SERIOUS    HITS  285 

Little  knew  she  of  books  or  creeds; 
An  Ave  Maria  sufficed  her  needs ; 
Little  she  cared,  save  to  be  by  my  side, 
To  ride  with  me,  and  ever  to  ride. 
From  San  Saba's  shore  to  Lavaca's  tide. 
She  was  as  bold  as  the  billows  that  beat, 
She  was  as  wild  as  the  breezes  that  blow; 
From  her  little  head  to  her  little  feet 
She  was  swayed,  in  her  suppleness,  to  and  fro 
By  each  gust  of  passion ;  a  sapling  pine, 
That  grows  on  the  edge  of  a  Kansas  bluff, 
And  wars  with  the  Avind  when  the  weather  is  rough, 
Is  like  this  Lasca,  this  love  of  mine. 
She  would  hunger  that  I  might  eat. 
Would  take  the  bitter  and  leave  me  the  sweet; 
But  once,  when  I  made  her  jealous  for  fun. 
At  something  I'd  whispered,  or  looked,  or  done, 
One  Sunday,  in  San  Antonio, 
To  a  glorious  girl  on  the  Alamo, 
She  drew  from  her  garter  a  dear  little  dagger, 
And — sting  of  a  wasp  ! — it  made  me  stagger ! 
An  inch  to  the  left  or  an  inch  to  the  right. 
And  I  shouldn't  be  maundering  here  to-night; 
But  she  sobbed,  and,  sobbing,  so  swiftly  bound 
Her  torn  rehoso  about  the  wound 
That  I  quite  forgave  her.     Scratches  don't  count 
In  Texas,  down  by  the  Rio  Grande, 

Her  eye  was  brown, — a  deep,  deep  brown; 
Her  hair  was  darker  than  her  eye ; 
And  something  in  her  smile  and  frown. 
Curled  crimson  lip,  and  instep  high, 
Showed  that  there  ran  in  each  blue  vein, 
Mixed  with  the  milder  Aztec  strain. 
The  vigorous  vintage  of  old  Spain. 
The  air  was  heavy,  the  night  was  hot, 
I  sat  by  her  side,  and  forgot — forgot; 
Forgot  the  herd  that  were  taking  their  rest; 


286  SERIOUS    HITS 

Forgot  that  the  air  was  close  opprest, 
That  the  Texas  norther  comes  sudden  and  soon, 
In  the  dead  of  night  or  the  blaze  of  noon ; 
That  once  let  the  herd  at  its  breath  take  fright, 
That  nothing  on  earth  can  stop  the  flight; 
And  wo  to  the  rider,  and  wo  to  the  steed, 
Who  falls  in  front  of  their  mad  stampede ! 
Was  that  thmider?    No,  by  the  Lord ! 
I  spring  to  my  saddle  without  a  word. 
One  foot  on  mme,  and  she  clung  behind. 
Away !  on  a  hot  chase  down  the  wmd ! 
But  never  was  fox-hunt  half  so  hard. 
And  never  was  steed  so  little  spared. 
For  we  rode  for  our  lives.    You  shall  hear  how  we  fared 
In  Texas,  down  by  the  Rio  Grande. 

The  mustang  flew,  and  we  urged  him  on ; 
There  was  one  chance  left,  and  you  have  but  one — 
Halt,  jump  to  the  ground,  and  shoot  your  horse; 
Crouch  under  his  carcass,  and  take  your  chance ; 
And  if  the  steers,  in  their  frantic  course. 
Don't  batter  you  both  to  pieces  at  once. 
You  may  thank  your  star;  if  not,  good-by 
To  the  quickening  kiss  and  the  long-drawn  sigh, 
And  the  open  air  and  the  open  sky, 
In  Texas,  down  by  the  Rio  Grande. 

The  cattle  gained  on  just  as  I  felt 
For  my  old  six-shooter,  behind  in  my  belt, 
Down  came  the  mustang,  and  down  came  we, 
Clinging  together,  and — what  was  the  rest? 
A  body  that  spread  itself  on  my  breast. 
Two  arms  that  shielded  my  dizzy  head, 
Two  lips  that  hard  on  my  lips  were  prest; 
Then  came  thunder  in  my  ears 
As  over  us  surged  the  sea  of  steers, 
Blows  that  beat  blood  hito  my  eyes, 
And  when  I  could  rise 
Lasca  was  dead ! 


SEKIOUS    HITS  287 

I  gouged  out  a  grave  a  few  feet  deep, 

And  there  in  earth's  arms  I  laid  her  to  sleep ; 

And  there  she  is  lying,  and  no  one  knows. 

And  the  summer  shines  and  the  winter  snows; 

For  many  a  day  the  flowers  have  spread 

A  pall  of  petals  over  her  head ; 

And  the  little  gray  hawk  that  hangs  aloft  in  the  air; 

And  the  sly  coyote  trots  here  and  there, 

And  the  black  snake  glides,  and  glitters,  and  slides 

Into  the  rift  in  a  cotton-wood  tree; 

And  the  buzzard  sails  on. 

And  comes  and  is  gone. 

Stately  and  still  like  a  ship  at  sea; 

And  I  wonder  why  I  do  not  care 

For  the  things  that  are  like  the  things  that  were. 

Does  half  my  heart  lie  buried  there 

In  Texas,  down  by  the  Rio  Grande? 


THE  VOLUNTEER  ORGANIST 

BY  S.  W.  FOSS 

The  gret  big  church  wuz  crowded  full  uv  broadcloth  an'  uv  silk. 
An'  satins  rich  as  cream  tliet  grows  on  our  ol'  brindle's  milk; 
Shined  boots,  biled  shirts,  stiff  dickeys  an'  stovepipe  hats  were 

there, 
An'  doods  'ith  trouserloons  so  tight  they  couldn't  kneel  down  in 

prayer. 

The  elder  in  his  poolpit  high,  said,  as  he  slowly  riz : 

"Our  organist  is  kep'  to  hum,  laid  up  'ith  roomatiz, 

An'  as  we  hev  no  substitoot,  as  Brother  Moore  aint  here, 

Will  some  'un  in  the  congregation  be  so  kind's  to  volunteer?" 

An'  then  a  red-nosed,  drunken  tramp,  of  low-toned,  rowdy  style, 
Give  an  interductory  hiccup,  an'  then  staggered  up  the  aisle. 
Then  through  thet  holy  atmosphere  there  crep'  a  sense  er  sin. 
An'  through  thet  air  of  sanctity  the  odor  uv  old  gin. 


288  SERIOUS    HITS 

Then  Deacon  Purington  he  yelled,  his  teeth  all  set  on  edge : 
"This  man  profanes  the  house  of  God !    Wy  this  is  sacrilege !" 
The  tramp  didn't  hear  a  word  he  said,  but  slouched  'ith  stumblin' 

feet, 
An'  sprawled  an'  staggered  up  the  steps,  an'  gained  the  organ 

seat. 

He  then  went  pawin'  through  the  keys,  an'  soon  there  rose  a  strain 
Thet  seemed  to  jest  bulge  out  the  heart  an'  'lectrif y  the  brain ; 
An'  then  he  slapped  down  on  the  thing  'ith  hands  an'  head  an' 

knees, 
He  slam-dashed  his  hull  body  down  kerflop  upon  the  keys. 

The  organ  roared,  the  music  flood  went  sweepin'  high  an'  dry; 
It  swelled  into  the  rafters  an'  bulged  out  into  the  sky. 
The  ol'  church  shook  an'  staggered  an'  seemed  to  reel  an'  sway, 
An'  the  elder  shouted  "Glory !"  an'  I  yelled  out  "Hooray !" 

An  then  he  tried  a  tender  strain  thet  melted  in  our  ears, 

Thet  brought  up  blessed  memories  and  drenched  'em  down  'ith 

tears ; 
An'  we  dreamed  uv  ol'  time  kitchens  'ith  Tabby  on  the  mat, 
Uv  home  an'  luv  an'  baby-days  an'  mother  an'  all  that! 

An'  then  he  struck  a  streak  uv  hope — a  song  from  souls  forgiven — 
Thet  burst   from   prison-bars  uv  sin   an'   stormed  the  gates  uv 

heaven ; 
The  morning  stars  they  sung  together — no  soul  wuz  left  alone — 
We  felt  the  universe  wuz  safe  an'  God  wuz  on  His  throne ! 

An'  then  a  wail  uv  deep  despair  an'  darkness  come  again. 

An'  long,  black  crape  hung  on  the  doors  uv  all  the  homes  uv  men ; 

No  luv,  no  light,  no  joy,  no  hope,  no  songs  of  glad  delight. 

An'  then — the  tramp,  he  staggered  doAvn  an'  reeled  into  the  night ! 

But  we  knew  he'd  tol'  his  stoiy,  tho  he  never  spoke  a  word. 
An'  it  was  the  saddest  story  thet  our  ears  had  ever  heard; 
He  hed  tol'  his  own  life  history  an'  no  eye  was  dry  the  day. 
Wen  the  elder  rose  an'  simply  said :  "My  brethren,  let  us  pray." 

By  permission  of  Tlie  Blade,  Toledo,  Ohio. 


SEEIOUS    HITS  289 

LIFE   COMPARED  TO  A   GAME  OF  CARDS 

ANONYMOUS 

Life  is  like  a  game  of  cards 

Which  each  one  has  to  learn. 
Each  shuffles,  cuts  and  deals  a  pack, 

And  each  a  trump  does  turn. 

Some  turn  a  high  card  at  the  top, 

While  others  turn  a  low. 
Some  hold  a  hand  quite  flushed  with  trumps, 

While  others  none  can  show. 

When  hearts  are  trumps  we  play  for  love 

And  pleasure  decks  the  hour. 
No  thought  of  danger  ever  comes 
In  roses'  lovely  bower. 

When  diamonds  chance  to  turn  the  pack 

'Tis  then   men   play   for  gold, 
And  heavy  sums  are  won  and  lost 

By  gamblers  young  and  old. 

When  clubs  are  trumps  beware  of  war 

On   ocean  and   on  land, 
For  fearful  things  have  come  to  pass 

When  clubs  were  in  the  hand. 

But  last  of  all  is  when  the  spade  is  turned  by  the  hand  of  time, 

And  finishes  up  the  game  in  every  land  and  clime ; 

No  matter  how  much  a  man  may  make  or  how  much  a  man  may 

save, 
You'll    find    the    spade    turns   up    at   last   to    dig   each    player's 

grave. 


290  SERIOUS    HITS 


OLD    DADDY    TURNER 

ANONYMOUS 

This  was  the  picture  in  front  of  ''Old  Daddy  Turner's"  cabin 
in  the  Kaintuck"  quarter  the  other  afternoon :  Two  colored  men 
sitting  on  a  wash-bench,  silent  and  sorrowful ;  an  old  dog,  sleeping 
in  the  sun  at  their  feet,  and  a  colored  woman  calling  to  a  boy 
who  was  on  the  fence :  "Now,  Jeems  Henry,  you  git  right  down 
from  dat!  Doan  you  know  day  Daddy  Turner  am  jist  on  de 
p'int  of  dyin'  and  gwine  up  to  hebbenf 

Here  was  the  picture  inside :  The  poor  old,  white-headed  man 
lying  on  his  dying  bed,  flesh  wasted  away  and  strength  departed. 
Near  him  sat  his  faithful  old  wife,  rocking  to  and  fro  and  moan- 
ing and  grieving.  Farther  away  was  a  colored  man  and  woman, 
solemn-faced  and  sad-hearted,  shaking  their  heads  as  they  east 
glances  toward  the  bed.  For  a  long  time  the  old  man  lay  quiet 
and  speechless,  but  at  length  he  signed  to  be  propped  up.  A 
sun  as  warm  as  springtime  poured  into  the  room.  He  took  notice 
of  it,  and  a  change  came  to  his  face  as  his  eyes  rested  upon  his 
grieving  wife. 

"Ize  bin  gwine  back  in  my  mind !"  he  whispered,  as  he  reached 
out  his  thin  hand  for  her  to  clasp.  "Fur  ober  fo'ty  y'ars  we's 
trabbled  'long  the  same  path.  We  sung  de  same  songs — we  prayed 
de  same  prayers — we  had  hold  of  ban's  when  we  'listed  in  de 
Gospel  ranks  an'  sot  our  faces  to'rds  de  golden  gates  of  hebben. 
Ole  woman,  Ize  gwine  to  part  wid  you !  Yes,  Ize  gwine  ter 
leave  yer  all  alone !" 

"0  Daddy!  Daddy!"  she  wailed  as  she  leaned  over  him. 

"Doan't  take  on  so,  chile !  It's  de  Lawd's  doin's,  not  mine.  To- 
morrow de  sun  may  be  as  bright  an'  wann,  but  de  ole  man  won't 
be  heah.  All  de  arternoon  Ize  had  glimpses  of  a  shady  path 
leadin'  down  to  de  shor'  of  a  big  broad  ribber.  Ize  seen  people 
gwine  down  dar  to  cross  ober,  an'  in  a  lectle  time  I'll  be  Avid  'era." 

She  put  her  wrinkled  face  on  the  pillow  beside  his  and  sobbed, 
and  he  placed  his  hand  on  her  head  and  said : 

"It's  de  Lawd,  chile — de  bressed  Lawd !  Chile,  Ize  tried  to 
be  good  to  yer.     You  has  been  good  to  me.     We  am  nuflfln  but 


SERIOUS    HITS  291 

ole  eull'd  folk,  po'  in  eberytiiag,  but  tryin'  to  do  right  by  ebery- 
body.  When  dey  tole  me  I'd  got  to  die,  I  wasn't  sartin  if  de 
Lawd  wanted  a  po'  ole  black  man  like  me  up  dar.  Yes,  chile,  He 
will!  Dis  mawnin'  I  heard  de  harps  playin',  de  rustle  of  wings, 
an'  a  cloud  sorter  lifted  up  an'  I  got  a  cl'ar  view  right  frew 
de  pearly  gates.  I  saw  ole  slaves  an'  nayburs  dar,  an'  dey  was 
jist  as  white  as  anybody,  an'  a  hundred  ban's  beckoned  me  to 
come  right  up  dar  'mong  'em." 

"0  Daddy !  I'll  be  all  alone — all  alone !"  she  wailed. 

"Hush,  chile !  Ize  gwine  to  be  lookin'  down  on  ye !  Ize  gwine 
to  put  my  han'  on  yer  head  an'  kiss  ye  when  yer  heart  am  big 
wid  soiTow;  an'  when  night  shuts  down  an'  you  pray  to  de  Lawd, 
I'll  be  kneelin'  long  side  of  ye.  Ye  won't  see  me,  but  I'll  be  wid  ye. 
You's  old  an'  gray.  It  won't  be  long  before  ye'll  git  de  summons. 
In  a  little  time  de  cloud  will  lif  fur  ye,  an'  I'll  be  right  dar  by 
de  pearly  gates  to  take  ye  in  my  arms." 

"But  I  can't  let  you  go — I  will  hold  you  down  heah  wid  me!" 

"Chile !  Ize  sorry  for  ye,  but  Ize  drawin'  nigh  dat  shady  path ! 
Hark!  I  Jjin  h'ah  de  footsteps  of  de  mighty  parade  of  speerits 
marchin'  down  to  de  'broad  ribber !  Dey  will  dig  a  grave  an'  lay 
my  ole  bones  dar,  an'  in  a  week  all  de  world  but  you  will  forgit 
me.  But  doan'  grieve,  chile.  De  Lawd  isn't  gwine  to  shet  de 
gates  on  me  'cause  I'm  ole  an'  po'  an'  black.  I  kin  see  dem 
shinin'  way  up  dar — see  our  boy  at  the  gate — h'ah  de  sweetest 
music  dat  angels  kin  play! — Light  de  lamp,  chile,  'cause  de 
night  has  come !" 

"Oh !  he's  gwine — he's  gwine !"  she  wailed,  as  her  tears  fell 
upon  his  face, 

"Chile !  hold  my  ban' !  Ober  heah  am  de  path !  I  kin  see  men 
an'  women  an'  chil'en  marchin'  'long!  Furder  down  am  de  sun- 
light. It  shmes  on  de  great  ribber!  Ober  de  ribber  am — de — 
gates — of " 

Of  heaven !  On  earth,  old  and  poor  and  low — beyond  the  gates, 
an  angel  with  the  rest. 


292  SERIOUS    HITS 

THE  TRAMP 

ANONYMOUS 

Now,  is  that  any  way  for  to  treat  a  poor  man  ? 

I  just  asked  for  a  penny  or  two; 
Don't  get  your  back  up,  and  call  me  a  "bum," 

Because  I  have  nothmg  to  do. 

Once  I  was  strong  and  handsome, 
Had  plenty  of  money  and  clothes : 

That  was  afore  I  tippled, 

And  whisky  had  painted  my  nose. 

Down  in  the  Lehigh  Valley 

Me  and  my  people  grew. 
Gentlemen,  I  was  a  farmer, 

And  a  very  good  farmer,  too. 

Me  and  my  wife,  and  Nellie, — 

Nellie  was  just  sixteen; 
And  she  was  the  prettiest  creature 

That  ever  that  valley  had  seen. 

Beaux?    Why,  she  had  a  dozen ; 

They  come  from  near  and  fur: 
But  they  was  mostly  farmers. 

And  that  didn't  quite  suit  her. 

But  one  of  'em  was  a  New  Yorker, 

Stylish  and  handsome  and  tall. 
Hang  him!     If  I  had  him  I'd — 

Well,  just  let  me  catch  him,  that's  all. 

Well,  he  was  the  fellow  for  Nellie, — 

She   didn't  know  no   ill. 
Her  mother  tried  to  prevent  it; 

But  you  know  a  young  girl's  will. 


SEEIOUS    HITS  293 

Well,  it's  the  same  old  story, 

Common   enough,  you'll   say: 
He  was  a  smooth-tongued  villain, 

And  he  got  her  to   run   away. 

About  a  month  or  so  after. 

We  heard  from  the  poor  young  thing: 

He  had  gone  away,   and  left  her 
Without  any  wedding-ring. 

Back  to  our  home  we  brought  her, — 

Back  to  her  mother's  side, 
Filled  with  a  raging  fever; 

And  she  fell  at  our  feet,  and  died. 

Frantic  with  grief  and  sorrow, 

Her  mother  began  to  sink: 
Dead!     in  less  than  a  fortnight. 

That's  when  I  took  to  drink. 

And  all  I  want  is  a  penny  or  two. 

Just  to  help  me  on  my  way; 
And  I'll  tramp  till  I  find  that  hell-hound. 

If  it  takes  till  the  judgment-day. 

THE  DANDY  FIFTH 

BY    F.    H.    GASSAWAY 

'Twas  the  time  of  the  workingmen's  great  strike,  when  all  the  land 

stood  still 
At  the  sudden  roar  from  the  hungry  mouths  that  labor  could 

not  fill; 
When  the  thunder  of  the  railroad  ceased,   and  startled  towns 

could  spy 
A  hundred  blazing  factories  pamting  each  midnight  sky; 
Through  Philadelphia's  surging  streets  marched  the  brown  ranks 

of  toil, 
The  grimy  legions  of  the  shops,  the  tillers  of  the  soil. 


294  SERIOUS    HITS 

White-faced   militiamen   looked   on,   while   women   shrank   with 

dread; 
'Twas  muscle  against  money  then,  'twas  riches  against  bread. 
Once,  as  the  mighty  mob  tramped  on,  a  carriage  stopt  the  way, 
Upon  the  silken  seat  of  which  a  young  patrie-ian  lay; 
And  as,  with  haughtj'^  glance,  he  swept  along  the  jeering  crowd, 
A  white-haired  blacksmith  in  the  ranks  took  off  his  cap  and  bowed. 
That  night  the  Labor  League  was  met,  and  soon  the  chairman  said, 
"There  hides  a  Judas  in  our  midst,  one  man  who  bows  the  head. 
Who  bends  the  coward's  servile  knee  when  capital  rolls  by." 
"Down  with  him !"     "Kill  the  traitor  cur !"  rang  out  the  savage 

cry. 
Up  rose  the  blacksmith,  then,  and  held  erect  his  head  of  gray : 
"I  am  no  traitor,  tho  I  bowed  to  a  rich  man's  son  to-day; 
And,  tho  you  kill  me  as  I  stand,  as  like  you  mean  to  do, — 
I  want  to  tell  you  a  story  short,  and  I  ask  you'll  hear  me  through. 
I  was  one  of  those  who  enlisted  first,  the  old  flag  to  defend; 
With  Pope  and  Halleck,  with  'Mac'  and  Grant,  I  followed  to  the 

end. 
'Twas  somewhere  down  on  the  Rapidan,  when  the  Union  cause 

looked  drear. 
That  a  regiment  of  rich  young  bloods  came  doAvn  to  us  from  here. 
Their  uniforms  wei'e  by  tailors  cut ;  they  brought  hampers  of  good 

wine; 
And  every  squad  had  a  servant,  too,  to  keep  their  boots  in  shine; 
They'd  naught  to  say  to  us  dusty  'vets,'  and,  through  the  whole 

brigade 
We  called  them  the  kid-gloved  Dandy  Fifth,   when  we  passed 

them  on  parade. 
Well,  they  were  sent  to  hold  a  fort  that  Rebs  tried  hard  to  take, 
'Twas  the  key  of  all  our  line,  which  naught  while  it  held  out 

could  break. 
But  a  fearful  fight  we  lost  just  then,  the  reserve  came  up  too 

late. 
And  on  that  fort,  and  the  Dandy  Fifth,  hung  the  whole  division's 

fate. 
Three  times  we  tried  to  take  them  aid,  and  each  time  back  we  fell, 
Tho  oaee  we  could  hear  the  fort's  far  guns  boom  like  a  funeral 

knell; 


STJRTOUS    HITS  295 

Till  ;i(    leiiylh  Joe  Hooker's  corps  came   up,   and   then  straight 

through  we  broke; 
How  we  cheered  as  we  saw  those  dandy  coats  still  back  of  the 

drifting  smoke! 
With  bands  all  front  and  our  colors  spread  we  swarmed  up  the 

parapet, 
But  the  sight  that  silenced  our  welcome  shout  I  shall  never  in 

life  forget. 
Four  days  before  had  their  water  gone, — they  had  dreaded  that 

the  most, — 
The  next,  their  last  scant  ration  went,  and  each  man  looked  a 

ghost 
As  he  stood  gaunt-eyed,  behind  his  gun,  like  a  crippled  stag  at 

bay, 
And  watched  starvation,  not  defeat,  draw  nearer  eveiy  day. 
Of  all  the  Fifth,  not  fourscore  men  could  in  their  places  stand, 
And  their  white  lips  told  a  fearful  tale,  as  we  gi-asped  each  blood- 
less hand. 
The  rest  in  the  stupor  of  famine  lay,  save  here  and  there  a  few 
In  death  sat  rigid  agamst  the  guns,  grim  sentinels  in  blue; 
And  their  colonel  could  not  speak  or  stir,  but  we  saw  his  proud 

eye  thrill 
As  he  simply  glanced  to  the  shot-scarred  staff  where  the  old  flag 

floated  still! 
Now,  I  hate  the  tyrants  who  grind  us  down,  while  the  wolf  snarls 

at  our  door, 
And  the  men  who've  risen  from  us,  to  laugh  at  the  misei-y  of  the 

poor; 
But  I  tell  you,  mates,  while  this  weak  old  hand  I  have  left  the 

strength  to  lift, 
I  will  touch  my  cap  to  the  proudest  swell  who  fought  in   the 

Dandy  Fifth !" 


296  SEEIOUS    HITS 

ON  LINCOLN       • 

BY   WALT   WHITMAN 

0  Captain !  my  Captain !  our  fearful  trip  is  done ; 
The  ship  has  weathered  every  rack,  the  prize  we  sought  is  won; 
The  port  is  near,  the  bells  I  hear,  the  people  all  exulting. 
While  follow  eyes  the  steady  keel,  the  vessel  grim  and  daring; 
But,  0  heart !  heart !  heart !  0  the  bleeding  drops  of  red. 
Where  on  the  deck  my  Captain  lies,  fallen,  cold  and  dead. 

0  Captain !  my  Captain !  rise  up  and  hear  the  bells ; 

Rise  up — for  you  the  flag  is  flung — for  you  the  bugle  trills, 

For  you  bouquets  and  ribbon'd  wreaths — for  you  the  shores  a- 

ci'owding ; 
For  you  they  call,  the  swaying  mass,  their  eager  faces  turning ; 
Here  Captain !  dear  father !  this  arm  beneath  your  head ! 
It  is  some  dream,  that  on  the  deck  you've  fallen  cold  and  dead. 

My  Captain  does  not  answer,  his  lips  are  pale  and  still; 
My  Captain  does  not  feel  my  ami,  he  has  no  pulse  nor  will ; 
The  shi])  is  anchored  safe  and  sound,  its  voj'age  is  closed  and  done; 
From  feuil'ul  trip  the  victor  ship  comes  in  with  object  won; 
Exult,  0  shores,  and  ring,  0  bells!  but  I  with  mournful  tread 
Walk  the  deck  my  Captain  lies,  fallen,  cold  and  dead. 


THE  LITTLE  STOWAWAY 

ANONYMOUS 

"  'Bout  three  years  ago,  afore  I  got  this  berth  as  I'm  in  now, 
I  was  second  engineer  aboard  a  Liverpool  steamer  bound  for  New 
York.  There'd  been  a  lot  of  extra  cargo  sent  down  just  at  the  last 
minute,  and  we'd  no  end  of  a  job  stowin'  it  away,  and  that  ran 
us  late  o'  startin';  so  that,  altogether,  you  may  think,  the  eap'n 
warn't  in  the  sweetest  temper  in  the  world,  nor  the  mate  neither. 
On  the  mornin'  of  the  third  day  out  from  Liverpool,  the  chief 


SERIOUS    HITS  297 

engineer  cum  down  to  me  in  a  precious  hurry,  and  says  he :  'Tom, 
what  d'ye  think?    Blest  if  we  ain't  found  a  stowaway!' 

"I  didn't  wait  to  hear  no  more,  but  up  on  deck  like  a  sky- 
rocket; and  there  I  did  see  a  sight,  and  no  mistake.  Every  man- 
Jack  o'  the  crew,  and  what  few  passengers  we  had  aboard,  was 
all  in  a  ring  on  the  f o'c'stle,  and  in  the  middle  was  the  fust  mate, 
lookin'  as  black  as  thunder.  Right  in  front  of  him,  lookin'  a 
reg'lar  mite  among  them  big  fellers,  was  a  little  bit  o'  a  lad  not 
ten  year  old — ragged  as  a  scarecrow,  but  with  bright,  cvirly  hair, 
and  a  bonnie  little  face  o'  his  own,  if  it  hadn't  been  so  woful 
and  pale.  The  mate  was  a  great,  hulkin',  black-bearded  feller 
with  a  look  that  'ud  ha'  frightened  a  horse,  and  a  voice  fit  to 
make  one  jump  through  a  keyhole;  but  the  young  un  warn't  a 
bit  afeard — he  stood  straight  up,  and  looked  him  full  in  the  face 
with  them  bright,  clear  eyes  o'  his'n,  for  all  the  world  as  if  he 
was  Prmce  Halferd  himself.  You  might  ha'  heerd  a  pin  drop, 
as  the  mate  spoke. 

"  'Well,  you  young  whelp,'  says  he,  'what's  brought  you  here  f 

"  'It  was  my  stepfather  as  done  it,'  says  the  boy,  in  a  weak 
little  voice,  but  as  steady  as  he  could  be.  'Father's  dead,  and 
mother's  married  again,  and  my  new  father  says  as  how  he  won't 
have  no  brats  about  eatin'  up  his  wages;  and  he  stowed  me  away 
when  nobody  warn't  lookin',  and  guv  me  some  grub  to  keep  me 
going'  for  a  day  or  two  till  I  got  to  sea.  He  says  I'm  to  go  to 
Aunt  Jane,  at  Halifax;  and  here's  her  address.' 

"We  all  believed  every  word  on't,  even  without  the  paper  he 
held  out.  But  the  mate  says:  'Look  here,  my  lad;  that's  all  very 
fine,  but  it  won't  do  here — some  o'  these  men  o'  mine  are  in  the 
secret,  and  I  mean  to  have  it  out  of  'em.  Now,  you  just  point 
out  the  man  as  stowed  you  away  and  fed  you,  this  very  minute; 
if  you  don't,  it'll  be  worse  for  you !' 

"The  boy  looked  up  in  his  bright,  fearless  way  (it  did  my 
heart  good  to  look  at  him,  the  brave  little  chap!)  and  says, 
quietly,  'I've  told  you  the  truth ;  I  ain't  got  no  more  to  say.' 

"The  mate  says  nothin',  but  looks  at  him  for  a  minute  as  if 
he'd  see  clean  through  him;  and  then  he  suigs  out  to  the  crew 
loud  enough  to  raise  the  dead:  'Reeve  a  rope  to  the  yard;  smart 
now !' 


298  SERIOUS    HITS 

"  'Now,  my  lad,  you  see  that  'ere  rope  ?  "Well,  I'll  give  you  ten 
minutes  to  confess;  and  if  you  don't  tell  the  truth  afore  the 
time's  up,  I'll  hang  you  like  a  dog !' 

"The  crew  all  stared  at  one  another  as  if  they  couldn't  believe 
their  ears  (I  didn't  believe  mine,  I  can  tell  ye),  and  then  a  low 
g^owl  went  among  'em,  like  a  wild  beast  awakin'  out  of  a  nap. 

"  'Silence  there !'  shouts  the  mate,  in  a  voice  like  the  roar  of  a 
nor'easter.  'Stan'  by  to  run  for'ard !'  as  he  held  the  noose  ready 
to  put  it  round  the  boy's  neck.  The  little  fellow  never  flinched 
a  bit;  but  there  w^as  some  among  the  sailors  (big  strong  chaps  as 
could  ha'  felled  an  ox)  as  shook  like  leaves  in  the  wind.  I 
clutched  hold  o'  a  handspike,  and  held  it  behind  my  back,  all 
ready. 

"  'Tom,'  whispers  the  chief  engineer  to  me,  'd'ye  think  he 
really  means  to  do  it  V 

"  'I  don't  know,'  says  I,  through  my  teeth ;  'but  if  he  does,  he 
shall  go  first,  if  I  swings  for  it !' 

"I've  been  in  many  an  ugly  scrape  in  my  time,  but  I  never 
felt  'arf  as  bad  as  I  did  then.  Every  minute  seemed  as  long  as  a 
dozen;  and  the  tick  o'  the  mate's  watch,  reg'lar,  pricked  my  ears 
like  a  pin. 

"  'Eight  minutes/  says  the  mate,  his  great,  deep  voice  breakin' 
in  upon  the  silence  like  the  toll  o'  a  funei-al  bell.  'If  you've 
got  anything  to  confess,  my  lad,  you'd  best  out  with  it,  for  ye're 
time's  nearly  up.' 

"  'I've  told  you  the  truth,'  answers  the  boy,  very  pale,  but  as 
firm  as  ever.    'May  I  say  my  prayers,  please?' 

"The  mate  nodded;  and  down  goes  the  poor  little  chap  on  his 
knees  and  put  up  his  poor  little  hands  to  pray.  I  couldn't 
make  out  what  he  said,  but  I'll  be  bound  God  heard  every  word. 
Then  he  ups  on  his  feet  again,  and  puts  his  hands  behind  him, 
and  says  to  the  mate  quite  quietly :  'I'm  ready.' 

"And  then,  sir,  the  mate's  hard,  grim  face  broke  up  all  to  once, 
like  I've  seed  the  ice  in  the  Baltic.  He  snatched  up  the  boy  in 
his  arms,  kissed  him,  and  burst  out  a-cryin'  like  a  child;  and  I 
think  there  warn't  one  of  us  as  didn't  do  the  same.  I  know  I  did 
for  one. 

"*God  bless  you,  my  boy!'  says  he,  smoothin'  the  child's  hair 


SEEIOUS    HITS  299 

with  bis  great  hard  hand.  'You're  a  true  Englishman,  every  inch 
of  you ;  you  wouldn't  tell  a  lie  to  save  yer  life !  Well,  if  so  be  as 
yer  father's  cast  yer  off,  I'll  be  yer  father  from  this  day  forth; 
and  if  I  ever  forget  you,  then  may  God  forget  me !' 

"And  he  kep'  his  word,  too.  When  we  got  to  Halifax,  he 
found  out  the  little  un's  aunt,  and  gev'  her  a  lump  o'  money  to 
make  him  comfortable;  and  now  he  goes  to  see  the  youngster 
every  voyage,  as  reg'lar  as  can  be;  and  to  see  the  pair  on  'em 
together— the  little  chap  so  fond  of  him,  and  not  bearm'  him 
a  bit  o'  grudge— it's  'bout  as  pretty  a  sight  as  ever  I  seed.  And 
now,  sir,  yer  parding,  it's  time  for  me  to  be  goin'  below;  so  I'll 
just  wish  yer  good-night." 

SAINT  CRISPIAN'S  DAY 

BY  SHAKESPEABE 

King  Henry.     What's  he  that  wishes  so? 
My  cousin  Westmoreland? — No,  my  fair  cousin: 
If  we  are  marked  to  die,  we  are  enough 
To  do  our  country  loss;  and  if  to  live, 
The  fewer  men  the  greater  share  of  honor. 
God's  Avill!     I  pray  thee,  wish  not  one  man  more. 
By  Jove,  I  am  not  covetous  for  gold ; 
Nor  care  I  who  doth  feed  upon  my  cost; 
It  years  me  not  if  men  my  garments  wear; 
Such  outward  things  dwell  not  in  my  desires; 
But  if  it  be  a  sin  to  covet  honor 
I  am  the  most  offending  soul  alive. 
No,  'faith,  my  coz,  wish  not  a  man  from  England: 
God's  peace!     I  would  not  lose  so  great  an  honor, 
As  one  man  more,  methinks,  would  share  from  me, 
For  the  best  hope  I  have.     0,  do  not  wish  one  more. 
Rather  proclaim  it,  Westmoreland,  through  my  host, 
That  he  which  hath  no  stomach  to  this  fight, 
Let  him  depart;  his  passport  shall  be  made, 
And  crowns  for  convoy  put  into  his  purse: 
We  would  not  die  in  that  man's  company 
That  fears  his  fellowship  to  die  with  us. 


300  SERIOUS    HITS 

Tills  (lay  is  callod — the  feast  of  Crispiaii : 

lie  that  outlives   this  day,   and  comes  safe   home, 

Will  stand  a  tiptoe  when  this  day  is  nam'd, 

And  rouse  him  at  the  name  of  Crispiau. 

He  that  shall  live  this  day,  and  see  old  age, 

Will  yearly  on  the  vigil  feast  his  neighbors, 

And  say, — "To-morrow  is  Saint  Crispian" : 

Then  Avill  he  strip  his  sleeve,  and  show  his  scars. 

And   say,    "These   tcounds   I   had   on    Oris  Irian's   day." 

Old  men  forget;  yet  all  shall  be  forgot, 

But   he'll   remember,   with   advantages, 

What  feats  he  did  that  day:  then  shall  oxu-  names, 

Familiar  in  their  mouths  as  household  words, — 

Harry  the  king,  Bedford  and  Exeter, 

W^arwick  and  Talbot,  Salisbury  and  Gloster, — 

Be  in  their  flowing  cups  freshly  remember'd: 

This  story  shall  the  good  man  teach  his  son; 

And   Crispin  Crispian  shall  ne'er  go  by. 

From  this  day  to  the  ending  of  the  world. 

But  we  in  it  shall  be  remember'd: 

We  few,  we  hapjiy  few,  we  band  of  brothers; 

For  he  to-day  that  sheds  his  blood  with  me 

Shall  be  my  brother;  be  he  ne'er  so  vile, 

This  day  shall  gentle  his  condition: 

And  gentlemen  in  England  now  a-bed, 

Shall   think   themselves   aceurs'd   they   wei'e   not   here; 

And  hold  their  manhoods  cheap,  whiles  any  speaks 

That  fought  with  us  upon  SAINT  CRISPIAN'S  DAY. 

THE   C'RRECT   CARD 

BY    GEORGE    R.    SIMS 

"C'rrect  card,  sir?  C'rrect  card,  sir?  "\Yliat !  you've  seen  my 
face  befoie?  Well  I  dare  say  as  how  you  have,  sir,  and  so  have 
many  more;  but  they  passes  me  by  without  a  word — but  perhaps 
it's  just  as  well ;  a  poor  crippled  chap  like  mo,  sir,  ain't  fit 
company  for  a  swell.  But  I've  seen  the  time  when  they  all  was 
proud  with  me  to  be  talking  seen — when  I  rode  for  Lord  Arthur 


SEEIOUS    HITS  301 

Forester,  and  wore  the  black  and  green.  How  did  it  happen  ?  I'll 
tell  you,  sir.  You  knew  little  Fanny  Flight — old  Farmer  Flight's 
one  daughter — always  so  pretty  and  bright?  You  used  to  joke 
with  her  sometimes,  sir,  and  say  as.  if  you  she'd  marry,  you'd 
set  up  a  'pub'  together,  an'  pitch  your  folks  to  Old  Harry.  You 
was  just  down  for  the  holidays,  sir,  from  Oxford,  where  you 
were  at  school;  but  you  only  played  at  being  in  love,  while  I 

was  a  cursed  fool !    Well,  there  were  lots  of  'm  after 

her,  sir,  what  with  her  ways  and  face;  but  I  was  in  earnest,  you 
see,  sir,  and  rode  a  waiting  race.  'Twas  one  fine  April  morning, 
when  she  came  out  to  see  us  train,  and  just  as  she  stood  Avith  her 
little  hand  holding  on  by  my  horse's  mane,  I  felt  as  how  I  could 
do  it,  and  came  with  a  rush,  you  see,  an'  I  said  to  her— all  of  a 
tremble,  sir, — Tan,  will  you  marry  mef  And  she  blushed  an' 
smiled,  an'  whiimied,  and  after  a  bit  she  agreed  that  as  soon  as 
I  found  the  money  to  pay  for  our  keep  and  feed,  why  we'd  run 
in  harness  together.  We'd  ha'  made  a  tidyish  pair ;  for  I  weren't 
a  bad  looking  colt  at  the  time,  and  she — such  a  nice  little  mare ! 
Such  a  mouth!  such  a  forehead!  such  action!  Ah,  well,  let  'em 
say  what  they  may,  that's  the  sort  to  make  running  with  us,  sir, 
— tho,  hang  it !  they  never  can  stay. 

"Well,  the  time  went  on,  and  I  rode  my  best,  an'  they  called  me 
a  'cuteish'  chap,  and  Lord  Arthur  put  me  up  to  ride  for  the 
Leicestershire  Handicap.  Lord  Arthur,  he  was  a  gentleman — 
never  was  stingy  or  mean — an'  he  said,  'I'll  give  you  five  hundred, 
my  man,  if  you  win  with  the  black  and  green.*  Well,  the  horse  I 
rode  was  Rasper;  perhaps  you  remember  him? — Black  all  but 
one  white  foot,  sir;  and  a  temper! — he'd  pull  like  sm.  But  jump 
like  a  bird  if  he  had  a  mind — plenty  of  power  and  pace — and  I 
knew  he  had  it  in  him,  and  I  swore  I'd  win  the  race.  The  night 
before  the  race  came  off  I  went  down  to  Farmer  Flight's — they'd 
got  to  expect  me  regular  now  on  Tuesday  and  Friday  nights — 
and  I  told  her  what  Lord  Arthur  said,  and  how,  if  I  chanced  to 
win,  we'd  go  into  double  harness  on  the  strength  of  his  lordship's 
tin.    An'  she  put  my  colors  in  her  hair,  and  her  arms  around  my 

neck,  and  I  felt but,  hang  it!  a  chap's  a  fool  as 

can't  keep  his  feelings  in  check.  But  then,  you  sees,  sir,  I  icas 
a  fool — a  big  one  as  ever  was  seen — but  then  I  was  only  twenty 


302  SEEIOUS    HITS 

when  I  rode  in  the  black  and  green.  I  got  up  early  next  morn- 
ing, an'  felt  as  light  as  a  feathei',  and  I  went  to  start  for  the 
stables;  and  mother  she  asked  me  whether  I'd  not  take  my  flask 
in  my  pocket,  in  case  it  might  come  in  handy;  but  'Mother,'  I 
says,  Svhen  a  chap's  in  love,  he  don't  feel  to  want  any  brandy.' 
And  I  thought,  as  I  put  on  a  new  pair  o'  spurs,  and  a  jacket 
bran  new  and  clean,  that  I'd  give  long  odds  that  I'd  pull  it  off 
— ten  to  one  on  the  black  and  green.  Well,  Lord  Arthur  gave 
me  my  orders,  and  a  leg  up  on  to  my  horse,  and  I  just  had  taken 
my  canter  an'  was  coming  back  up  the  course,  when  who  sliould 
I  spy  but  Fanny,  in  a  stylish  sort  of  a  trap,  talking  away  like 
blazes  to  a  dark,  long- whiskered  chap ;  but  I  hadn't  time  to  think 
of  more,  for  we  got  the  word  to  start,  and  Rasper  gave  a  thunder- 
ing tear  that  nearly  pulled  out  my  heart;  an'  then  I  pulled  him 
together,  for  mine  was  a  waiting  race,  and  I  knew  that  what  was  to 
win  it  was  Rasper's  pluck  not  pace.  Well,  I  got  round  all  right 
the  first  time;  the  fences  were  easy  enough — at  least  to  a  couple 
like  ive  were;  the  only  one  that  Avas  tough  was  a  biggish  hedge, 
with  a  post  and  rails ;  but  the  takmg-off  was  fair,  and  I  shouldn't 
call  it  a  dangerous  jump,  as  long  as  you  took  it  with  care.  And 
Rasper !  that  very  morning  I  said  to  Lord  Arthur,  I  said,  'I  think 
as  that  horse  there  could  jump  a  church,  if  he  took  the  thing 
into  his  head';  an'  that  morning  he  went  like  a  lady  and  looked  as 
bright  as  a  bean,  and  I  knew,  if  it  only  lasted,  I'd  win  with  the 
black  and  green.  I  was  riding  Rasper  easy,  when,  just  as  we 
passed  the  stand,  it  struck  me  the  carriage  that  Fanny  was  in 
was  somewhere  ujDon  my  right  hand;  and  I  took  a  pull  at  Rasper, 
and  a  glance  toward  that  side,  and  I  saw  what  made  me  forget 
the  race  and  forget  the  way  to  ride — only  a  kiss!  An'  what's  a 
kiss  to  the  like  of  him  and  herf  But  I  could  not  help  letting 
Rasper  feel  that  I  wore  a  long-necked  spur;  an'  tho  I  set  my 
teeth  to  be  cool  and  steadied  him  with  the  rein,  I  knew  that  the 
devil  in  Rasper  was  up,  and  couldn't  be  laid  again;  an'  the  very 
next  fence,  tho  I  kept  him  straight,  and  he  went  at  it  after  the 
rest,  I  could  feel  that  he  meant  to  do  his  worst,  and  I  couldn't  ride 
my  best.  For,  you  know,  when  a  man  feels  desperate-like,  he's 
no  more  head  than  a  child,  and  it's  all  up  with  a  jock,  you  see,  if 
he  goes  at  his  fences  wild.    Over  the  next  fence — over  the  next — 


SEEIOUS    HITS  303 

till  I  thought,  as  my  teeth  I  set,  if  I  only  could  keep  my  head  to 
my  work,  I  might  pull  through  with  it  yet;  and  I  took  a  pull  at 
Rasper,  an'  fell  back  a  bit  to  the  tail,  for  I'd  never  forget  the 
one  difficult  sjDot — the  hedge  with  the  post  and  raU.  How  it  all 
comes  back !  We're  in  the  field — now  for  a  rattling  burst ;  for 
the  race  is  half  won  by  the  horse  and  man  that  crosses  that  fence 
first.  I  run  up  to  my  horses  and  pass  them — I've  given  Rasper 
his  head;  I  can  hear,  some  lengths  behind  me,  the  trampling  and 
the  tread;  and  now  I  send  him  at  it  firmly  but  not  too  fast — ■ 
he  stops — lays  his  ears  back — REFUSES!  The  devil's  come  out 
at  last!  And  I  dig  in  the  steel  and  let  him  feel  the  sting  of  stout 
whalebone,  and  I  say,  'You  shall  do  it,  you  devil !  if  I  break 
your  neck  and  my  own/  And  the  brute  gives  a  squeal,  and  rushes 
at  the  post  and  rail  like  mad — no  time  to  rise  him  at  it — not 
much  use  if  I  had ;  and  then  .  .  .  well,  I  feel  a  crash  and  a  blow, 
and  hear  a  woman  scream,  and  I  seem  to  be  dying  by  inches  in  a 
horrid  sort  of  a  dream. 

"No,  thank  ye — I'd  rather  not,  sir.  You  see  they  ain't  all 
like  you;  these  gents  as  has  plenty  of  money  don't  care  who  they 
gives  it  to;  but  as  for  stopping  an'  saying  a  word,  an'  hearing 
a  fellow's  tale,  they'd  rather  give  him  a  crown,  sir,  or  stand  him 
a  quart  of  ale.  But  it  brings  back  old  times  to  be  talking  to  you. 
Ah !  the  jolly  old  times  as  I've  seen,  when  I  rode  for  Lord  Ai'thur 
(c'rrect  card,  sir?)  and  wore  the  black  and  green!" 


THE  ENGINEER'S  STORY 

BY   ROSA   H.   THORPE 

No,  children,  my  trips  are  over. 

The  engineer  needs  rest; 
My  hand  is  shaky;  I'm  feeling 

A  tugging  pain  i'  my  breast ; 
But  here,   as  the  twilight  gathers, 

I'll  tell  you  a  tale  of  the  road. 
That'll  ring  in  my  head  forever. 

Till  it  rests  beneath  the  sod. 


304  SEKIOUS    HITS 

We  were  lumbering  along  in  the  twilight, 

The  night  was  drooping  her  shade, 
And  the  "Gladiator"  labored, — 

Climbing  the  top  of  the  grade; 
The  train  was  heavily  laden, 

So  I  let  my  engine  rest, 
Climbing  the  grading  slowly, 

Till  we  reached  the  upland's  crest. 

I  held  my  watch  to  the  lamplight, — 

Ten  minutes  behind  the  time ! 
Lost  in  the  slackened  motion 

Of  the  up-grade's  heavy  climb; 
But  I  knew  the  miles  of  the  prairie 

That  stretched  a  level  track. 
So  I  touched  the  gauge  of  the  boiler, 

And  pulled  the  lever  back. 

Over  the  rails  a-gleaming, 

Thii'ty  an  hour,  or  so, 
The  engine  leaped  like  a  demon, 

Breathing  a  fiery  glow; 
But  to  me — a-hold  of  the  lever — 

It  seemed  a  child  alway, 
Trustful   and   always   ready 

My  lightest  touch  to  obey. 

I  was  proud,  you  know,  of  my  engine, 

Holding  it  steady  that  night. 
And  my  eye  on  the  track  before  us, 

Ablaze  with  the  Druinmond  light. 
We  nearod  a  well-known  cabin, 

Where  a  child  of  three  or  four. 
As  the  up  train  passed,  oft  called  me, 

A-playing  around  the  door. 


SEKIOUS    HITS  305 

My  hand  was  firm  on  the  throttle 

As  we  swept  around  the   curve, 
When  something  afar  in  the  shadow 

Struck  fire   through  every  nerve. 
I  sounded  the  brakes,  and  crashing 

The  reverse-lever  down  in  dismay, 
Groaning  to  heaven, — eighty  paces 

Ahead  was  the  child  at  its  play ! 

One  instant, — one,  awful  and  only. 

The  world  flew  round  in  my  brain. 
And  I  smote  my  hand  hard  on  my  forehead 

To  keep  back  the  terrible  pain ; 
The  train    I   thought   flying   forever, 

With   mad,   irresistible   roll, 
While  the  cries  of  the  dying,  the  night-wind 

Swept  into  my  shuddering  soul. 

Then  I  stood  on  the  front  of  the  engine — 

How  I  got  there  I  never  could  tell — 
Mj^  feet  planted  down  on  the  crossbar, 

Where  the  cow-catcher  slopes  to  the  rail. 
One  hand  firmly  locked  on  the  coupler. 

And  one  held  out  in  the  night. 
While  my  eye  gauged  the  distance,  and  measured 

The  speed  of  our  slackening  flight. 

My  mind,  thank  the  Lord!  it  was  steady; 

I  saw  the  curls  of  her  hair, 
And  the  face  that,  turning  in  wonder, 

Was  lit  by  the  deadly  glare. 
I  know  little  more — but  I  heard  it — 

The  groan  of  the  anguished  wheels. 
And  remember  thinking— the  engine 

In  .agony  trembles  and  reels. 


306  SERIOUS    HITS 

One  rod !    To  the  clay  of  my  dying 

I  shall  think  the  old  engme  reared  back, 
And  as  it  recoiled,  with  2,  shudder 

I  swept  my  hand  over  the  track; 
Then  darkness  fell  over  my  eyelids, 

But  I  heard  the  surge  of  the  train, 
And  the  poor  old  engine  creaking, 

As  racked  by  a  deadly  pain. 

They  found  us,  they  said,  on  the  gravel, 

My  fingers  enmeshed  in  her  hair, 
And  she  on  my  bosom  a-climbing. 

To  nestle  securely  there. 
We  are  not  much  given  to  crying — 

We  men  that  run  on  the  road — 
But  that  night,  they  said,  there  were  faces 

With  tears  on  them,  lifted  to  God. 

For  years  in  the  eve  and  the  morning. 

As  I  neared  the  cabin  agam. 
My  hand  on  the  lever  prest  downward 

And  slackened  the  speed  of  the  train. 
When  my  engine  had  blown  her  a  greeting, 

She  always  would  come  to  the  door; 
And  her  look  with  a  fulness  of  heaven 

Blesses  me  evermore. 


THE  FACE  UPON  THE  FLOOR 

BY  H.  ANTOINE  D^AKCY 

'Twas  a  balmy  summer  evening,  and  a  goodly  crowd  was  there, 
Which  well-nigh  filled  Joe's  barroom  on  the  corner  of  the  square; 
And  as  songs  and  witty  stories  came  through  the  open  door, 
A  vagabond  crept  slowly  in  and  posed  upon  the  floor. 


SERIOUS    HITS  307 

"Where   did  it   come   from?"  some   one  said.     "The   wind  has 

blown  it  in." 
"What  does  it  want?"  another  cried.    "Some  whisky,  rum  or  gin?" 
"Here,  Toby,  seek  him,  if  your  stomach's  equal  to  the  work — 
I  wouldn't  touch  him  with  a  fork,  he's  as  filthy  as  a  Turk." 


This  badinage  the  poor  wretch  took  with  stoical  good  grace; 

In  fact,  he  smiled  as  tho  he  thought  he'd  struck  the  proper  place. 

"Come,   boys,   I   know   there's   kindly   hearts   among   so   good   a 

crowd — 
To  be  in  such  good  company  would  make  a  deacon  proud. 

"Give  me  a  drink — that's  what  I  want — I'm  out  of  funds,  you 

know. 
When  I  had  the  cash  to  treat  the  gang,  this  hand  was  never  slow. 
What?     You  laugh  as  tho  you  thought  this  pocket  never  held 

a  sou, 
I  once  was  fixt  as  well,  my  boys,  as  any  one  of  you. 

"There,  thanks;  that's  braced  me  nicely;  God  bless  you  one  and 

all; 
Next  time  I  pass  this  good  saloon,  I'll  make  another  call. 
Give  you  a  song?    No,  I  can't  do  that,  my  singing  days  are  past; 
My  voice  is  cracked,  my  throat's  worn  out,  and  my  lungs  are 

going  fast. 

"Say!  give  me  another  whisky,  and  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do — 
I'll  tell  you  a  funny  story,  and  a  fact,  I  promise,  too. 
That  I  was  ever  a  decent  man,  not  one  of  you  would  think; 
But  I  was,  some  four  or  five  years  back.     Say,  give  me  another 
drink. 

"Fill  her  up,  Joe,  I  want  to  put  some  life  into  my  frame — 
Such  little  drinks,  to  a  bum  like  me,  are  miserably  tame; 
Five  fingei'S — there,  that's  the  scheme — and  corking  whisky,  too. 
Well,  here's  luck,  boys;  and  landlord,  my  best  regards  to  you. 


308  SERIOUS    HITS 

"You've  treated  me  pretty  kindly,  and  I'd  like  to  tell  you  how 
I  came  to  be  the  dirty  sot  you  see  before  you  now. 
As  I  told  you,  once  I  was  a  man,  with  muscle,  frame  and  health, 
And  but  for  a  blunder,  ought  to  have  made  considerable  wealth. 

"I  was  a  painter — not  one  that  daubed  on  bricks  and  wood, 
But  an  artist,  and,  for  my  age,  was  rated  pretty  good. 
I  worked  hard  at  my  canvas,  and  was  bidding  fair  to  rise. 
For  gradually  I  saw  the  star  of  fame  before  my  eyes. 

"I  made  a  picture  perhaps  you've  seen,  'tis  called  the  'Chase  of 

Fame,' 
It  brought  me  fifteen  hundred  pounds,  and  added  to  my  name. 
And  then  I  met  a  woman — now  comes  the  funny  part — 
With  eyes  that  petrified  my  brain,  and  sunk  into  my  heart. 

"Why  don't  you  laugh?    'Tis  funny  that  the  vagabond  you  see 
Could  over  love  a  woman,  and  expect  her  love  for  me; 
But  'twas  so,  and  for  a  month  or  two  her  smiles  were  freely  given, 
And  when  her  loving  lips  touched  mine  it  carried  me  to  heaven. 

"Did  you  ever  see  a  woman  for  whom  your  soul  you'd  give, 

With  a  form  like  the  Milo  Yenus,  too  beautiful  to  live; 

With  eyes  that  would  beat  the  Koh-i-nor,  and  a  wealth  of  chestnut 

hair? 
If  so,  'twas  she,  for  there  never  was  another  half  so  fair. 

"I  was  working  on  a  portrait,  one  afternoon   in  May, 

Of  a  fair-haired  boy,  a  friend  of  mme,  who  lived  across  the  way; 

And  Madeline  admired  it,  and,  much  to  my  surprize. 

Said  that  she'd  like  to  know  the  man  that  had  such  dreamy  eyes. 

"It  didn't  take  long  to  know  him,  and  before  a  month  had  flown. 

My  friend  had  stolen  my  darling,  and  I  was  left  alone; 

And  ere  a  year  of  misery  had  passed  above  my  head. 

The  jewel  I  had  treasured  so  had  tarnished,  and  was  dead. 


SEKIOUS    HTTS  3O9 

"That's  why  I  took  to  drink,  boys.     Why  I  never  saw  you  smile, 

I  thought  you'd  be  amused,  and  laughing  all  the  while. 

Why,  what's  the  matter,   friend?     There's  a  tear-drop   in  your 

eye. 
Come,  laugh  like  me;  'tis  only  babes  and  women  that  cry. 

"Say,  boys,  if  you  give  me  just  another  whisky,  I'll  be  glad. 
And  I'll  draw  right  here  a  picture  of  the  face  that  drove  me  mad. 
Give  me  that  piece  of  chalk  with  which  you  mark  the  baseball 

score — 
You  shall  see  the  lovely  Madeline  upon  the  barroom  floor." 

Another  drink,  and,  with  chalk  in  hand,  the  vagabond  began 
To  sketch  a  face  that  well  might  buy  the  soul  of  any  man. 
Then  as  he  placed  another  look  upon  the  shapely  head. 
With  a  fearful  shriek  he  leaped  and  fell  across  the  picture  dead. 


THE  FUNERAL  OF  THE  FLOWERS 

BY  T.  DE  WITT  TALMAGE 

The  summer  is  ended,  and  we  have  all  been  invited  to  attend 
the  Funeral  of  the  Flowers.  It  occurred  on  a  long  slope  which  at 
one  side  dipt  into  the  warm  valleys,  and  on  the  other  side  arose 
very  high  into  the  frosty  air,  so  that  on  one  boundary  line  lived 
cactus  and  orange-blossom  and  camellia,  and  on  the  other  re- 
sided balsam-pine  and  Alpine  strawbeny,  and  all  kinds  of  growths 
between. 

Living  midway  that  steep  slope  of  land  there  was  a  rose,  that 
in  common  parlance  we  called  "Giant  of  Battle."  It  was  red  and 
fiery,  looking  as  if  it  had  stood  on  fields  of  carnage  where  the 
blood  dashed  to  the  lip.  It  was  a  hero  among  flowers.  Many  of 
the  grasses  of  the  field  worshiped  it  as  a  god,  the  mignonette 
burning  incense  beneath  it,  the  marigold  throwing  glittering  rays 
of  beauty  before  it,  the  mistletoe  crawling  at  its  feet.    The  fame 


310  SERIOUS    HITS 

of  this  Giant  of  Battle  was  world-wide,  and  some  said  that  its 
ancestors  on  the  father's  side  had  stood  on  the  plains  of  Waterloo, 
and  on  its  mother's  side  at  Magneta,  and  drank  themselves  drunk 
on  human  gore.  But  children  are  not  to  blame  for  what  their 
ancestors  do,  and  this  rose,  called  Giant  of  Battle,  was  univer- 
sally adored. 

But  the  Giant  got  sick.  Whether  it  was  from  the  poisonous 
breath  of  the  Nightshade  that  had  insolently  kissed  him,  or  from 
grief  at  the  loss  of  a  Damask-rose  that  had  tirst  won  his  heart 
by  her  blushes,  and  then  died,  we  know  not ;  but  the  Giant  of  Bat- 
tle was  passing  rapidly  away.  There  was  great  excitement  up 
and  down  the  slopes.  A  consultation  of  botanical  physicians  was 
called,  and  Doctor  Eglantine  came  and  thrust  a  thorn  for  a  lan- 
cet into  the  Giant's  veins,  on  the  principle  that  he  had  too  much 
blood  and  was  apoplectic,  and  Doctor  Balm  of  Gilead  attempted 
to  heal  the  pain  by  poultices;  but  still  the  Giant  grew  worse  and 
worse.  The  Primrose  called  in  the  evening  to  see  how  the  dying 
hero  was,  and  the  Morning-glory  stopt  before  breakfast  to  see 
if  it  could  do  any  good.  Every  flower  or  grass  that  called 
had  a  prescription  for  him  that  would  surely  cure.  Neighbor 
Horse-sorrel  suggested  acids,  and  Honeysuckle  proposed  sugars, 
and  Myrrh  suggested  bitters,  and  Ladies'-slipper,  having  taken 
off  her  shoes,  said  all  the  patient  wanted  was  more  quiet  about 
the  room. 

But  too  much  changing  of  medicine  only  made  the  Giant  more 
and  more  sick,  and  one  afternoon,  while  sitting  up  in  bed  with 
a  cup  of  honeysuckle  to  his  lips,  and  with  the  fan  of  the  south 
wind  fluttering  in  his  face,  his  head  dropt  and  he  died.  As  the 
breath  went  out  of  him  a  Clematis  that  had  been  overlookmg  the 
sad  scene,  said :  ''What  time  is  it  V  and  a  cluster  of  Four-o'docks 
answered,  "A  little  past  the  middle  of  the  afternoon." 

The  next  morning  the  funeral  bells  all  rang:  the  Blue-bells 
and  the  Canterbury-bells  and  the  Fox-glove-bells  and  Hare-bells 
and  all  the  flowerdom  came  to  the  obsequies  of  the  Giant  of 
Battle.  He  was  laid  out  on  a  trellis,  and  on  a  catafalque,  such 
as  dead  monarchs  never  had,  of  dahlia  and  phlox  and  magnolia 
and  geranium  and  gladiola.  There  was  a  great  audience  of  flow- 
ers.    Solemnity  came  down  upon  them.     Even  the  Cock's-comb 


SERIOUS    HITS  311 

stopt  strutting,  and  Larkspur  ceased  her  fickleness,  and  Snap- 
dragon looked  gentle,  and  Snowdrop  seemed  to  melt,  and  Bach- 
elor's-button wished  it  had  some  one  to  express  its  grief  to.  The 
Passion-flower  came  in  and  threw  herself  on  the  pale  cheek  of 
the  Giant  with  most  ardent  demonstration  of  affection.  Amaranth 
and  Hydrangea  and  Daffodil  and  Spiderwort  and  Spiraea  having 
come  far  from  the  night  and  dew,  stood  around  with  their  eyes 
full  of  tears. 

The  funeral  services  began.  Rose  of  Sharon  and  Lily  of  the 
Valley  took  part  in  them.  The  Star  of  Bethlehem  sang  a  hymn 
to  the  tune  of  Bonny  Doon.  Forget-me-not  said  a  few  words 
of  commemoration.  Then  Heartsease  arose  for  the  work  of  com- 
fort, and  read  the  lesson  of  the  day:  "As  a  flower  of  the  field, 
so  he  flourisheth.  For  the  wdnd  passeth  over  it,  and  it  is  gone; 
and  the  place  thereof  shall  know  it  no  more."  And  all  the  bells, 
Fox-glove-bells  and  Blue-bells  and  Canterbury-bells  and  Hare- 
bells, prolonged  the  strain  through  all  that  day,  tolling,  tolling  out, 
**No  more!  no  more!" 


CATO'S  SOLILOQUY  ON  IMMORTALITY 

BY    JOSEPH   ADDISON 

It  must  be  so :  Plato,  thou  reasonest  well ! 
Else,  whence  this  pleasing  hope,  this  fond  desire, 
This  longing  after  immortality  ? 
Or,  whence  this  secret  dread  and  inward  horror 
Of  falling  into  naught  ?    Why  shrinks  the  soul 
Back  on  herself  and  startles  at  destruction? 
'Tis  the  divinity  that  stirs  within  us; 
'Tis  Heaven  itself,  that  points  out  an  hereafter 
And  intimates  eternity  to  man. 

Eternity !  thou  pleasing,  dreadful  thought ! 
Through  what  variety  of  untried  being. 
Through  what  new  scenes  and  changes  must  we  pass! 
The  wide,  the  unbounded  prospect  lies  before  me; 
But  shadows,  clouds,  and  darkness  rest  upon  it. 


312  SEKIOUS    HITS 

OPPORTUNITY 

BY  JOHN   J.  INGALLS 

Master  of  human  destinies  am  I 

Fame,  love  and  fortune,  on  my  footsteps  wait. 

Cities  and  fields  I  walk,  I  penetrate 

Deserts  and  seas  remote — and  passing  by 

Hovel  and  mart  and  palace,  soon  or  late, 

I  knock  unbidden  once  at  every  gate — 

If  sleeping,  wake,  if  feasting,  rise,  before 

I  turn  away.    It  is  the  hour  of  fate 

And  they  who  follow  me,  reach  every  state 

Mortals  desire,  and  conquer  every  foe 
Save  death :  but  those  who  doubt  or  hesitate 
Condemned  to  failure,  penury  and  wo, 
Seek  me  in  vain  and  uselessly  implore  j 
I  answer  not  and  I  return  no  more. 

OPPORTUNITY'S  REPLY 

BY  WALTER  MALONE 

They  do  me  wrong  who  say  I  come  no  more, 
When  once  I  knock  and  fail  to  find  you  in: 

For  every  day  I  stand  outside  your  door. 
And  bid  you  wake  and  rise  to  fight  and  win. 

Wail  not  for  precious  changes  passed  away; 

Weep  not  for  golden  ages  on  the  wane; 
Each  night  I  burn  the  records  of  the  day; 

At  sunrise  every  soul  is  born  again. 

Laugh  like  a  boy  at  splendors  that  have  sped ; 

To  vanished  joys  be  blind,  and  deaf  and  dumb; 
My  judgments  seat  the  dead  past  with  its  dead, 

But  never  bind  a  moment  yet  to  come. 


SERIOUS    HITS  3ia 

THE    ERL-KING 

BY    JOHANN    WOLFGANG    VON    GOETHE 

(Translated  by  Sir  Walter  Scott) 

Oh,  who  rides  by  night  thro'  the  woodland  so  wild? 
It   is    the    fond    father   embracing    his    child, 
And  close  the  boy  nestles  within  his  loved  arm, 
To  hold  hhnself  fast,  and  to  keep  himself  warm. 

"0  father,  see  yonder!  see  yonder!"  he  says; 
''My  boy,  npon  what  dost  thou  fearfully  gazef 
"Oh,  'tis  the  Erl-king  with  his  crown  and  his  shroud." 
"No,  my  son,  it  is  but  a  dark  wreath  of  the  cloud." 

"Oh,  come  and  go  with  me,  thou  loveliest  child; 
By  many  a  gay  sport  shall  thy  time  be  beguiled; 
My  mother  keeps  for  thee  full  many  a  fair  toy. 
And  many  a  fine  flower  shall  she  pluck  for  my  boy." 

"0  father,  my  father,  and  did  you  not  hear 

The  Erl-king  whisper  so  low  in  my  earf 

"Be  still,  my  heart's  darling — my  child,  be  at  ease; 

It  was  but  the  wild  blast  as  it  sung  thro'  the  trees." 

"Oh,  wilt  thou  go  with  me,  thou  loveliest  boy? 
My  daughter  shall  tend  thee  with  care  and  with  joy; 
She  shall  bear  thee  so  lightly  thro'  wet  and  thro'  wild. 
And  press  thee,  and  kiss  thee,  and  sing  to  my  child." 

"0  father,  my  father,  and  saw  you  not  plain, 
The  Erl-king's  pale  daughter  glide  past  thro'  the  rain?" 
"Oh,  yes,  my  loved  treasure,  I  knew  it  full  soon; 
It  was  the  gray  willow  that  danced  to  the  moon." 


314  SEEIOUS    HITS 

"Ob,  come  and  go  with  me,  no  longer  delay. 
Or  else,  silly  child,  I  will  drag  thee  away." 
"0  father!  0  father!  now,  now  keep  your  hold, 
The  Erl-king  has  seized  me — his  grasp  is  so  cold!" 

Sore  trembled  the  father;  he  spurr'd  thro'  the  wild, 
Clasping  close  to  bis  bosom  bis  shuddering  child. 
He  reaches  bis  dwelling  in  doubt  and  in  dread, 
But,  clasp'd  to  bis  bosom,  the  infant  was  dead! 


CARCASSONNE 

BY  M.  E.  W.   SHERWOOD 

How  old  I  am!     I'm  eighty  years.     I've  worked  both  bard  and 

long. 
Yet  patient  as  my  life  has  been,  one  dearest  sight  I  have  not  seen, 
It  almost  seems  a  wrong.  A  dream  I  had  when  life  was  young. 
Alas!  our  dreams,  they  come  not  true. 
I  thought  to  see  fair  Carcassonne, 
That  lovely  city,  Carcassonne. 

One  sees  it  dimly  from  the  height  beyond  the  mountam  blue. 
Fain  would  I  walk  five  weary  leagues,  I  do  not  mind  the  road's 

fatigues. 
Thro'  morn  and  evening's  dew. 
But  bitter  frosts  would   fall  at  night,   and  on   the  grapes  that 

withered  blight, 
I  could  not  go  to  Carcassonne, 
I  never  went  to  Carcassomie. 

They  say  it  is  as  gay  all  times  as  holidays  at  home. 

The  gentles  ride  in  gay  attire,  and  in  the  sun  each  gilded  spire 

Shoots   up   like  those  at   Rome. 

The  bishop  tlie  procession  leads,  the  generals  curb  their  prancing 

steeds. 
Alas!  I  saw  not  Carcassonne. 
Alas!  I  know  not  Carcassonne. 


SERIOUS    HITS  315 

Our  vicar's  right.    He  preaches  loud  and  bids  us  to  beware. 
He  saj's,  "Oh,  guard  the  weakest  part  and  most  the  traitor  in  the 

heart 
Against  ambition's  snare." 

Perhaps  in  autumn  I  can  find  two  sunny  days  with  gentle  wind, 
I  then  could  go  to  Carcassonne, 
I  still  could  go  to  Carcassonne. 

My  God  and  Father,  pardon  me,  if  this  my  wish  offends. 

One  sees  some  hope  more  high  than  he  in  age,  as  in  his  infancy 

To  which  his  heart  ascends. 

My  wife,  my  son  have  seen  Narbonne,  my  grandson  went  to 

Perijignan, 
But  I  have  not  seen  Carcassonne, 
But  I  have  not  seen  Carcassonne. 

Thus  sighed  a  peasant  bent  with  age,  half  dreaming  in  his  chair. 
I  said,  "My  friend,  come,  go  with  me  to-moiTow;  thine  eyes  shall 

see  those  streets 
That  seem  so  fair." 
That  night  there  came  for  passing  soul  the  church-bell's  low  and 

solemn  toll. 
He  never  saw  gay  Carcassonne. 
Who  has  not  known  a  Carcassonne? 

THE  MUSICIANS 

ANONYMOUS 

The  strings  of  my  heart  were  strung  by  Pleasure, 

And  I  laughed  when  the  music  fell  on  my  ear, 
For  he  and  Mirth  plaj'^ed  a  joyful  measure, 

And  they  played  so  loud  that  I  could  not  hear 
The  wailing  and  mourning  of  souls  a-weary. 

The  strains  of  soiTow  that  sighed  around; 
The  notes  of  my  heart  sang  blithe  and  cheery, 

And  I  heard  no  other  sound. 
Mirth  and  Pleasure,  the  music  brothers. 

Played  louder  and  louder  in  joyful  glee, 


316  SEKIOUS    HITS 

But  sometimes  a  discord  was  heard  by  others 

Tho  only  the  ilij-tlim  was  heard  l)y  me. 
Louder  and  louder  and  faster  and  faster, 

The  hands  of  those  brothers  played  strain  on  strain, 
Till,  all  of  a  sudden  a  mighty  master 

Swept  them  aside,  and  Pain, 
Pain,  the  Musician,  the  soul  refiner, 

Resting  the  strings  of  my  quivering  heart; 
And  the  air  that  he  played  was  a  plaintive  minor, 

So  sad  that  the  tear-drops  were  forced  to  start. 
Each  note  Avas  an  echo  of  awful  anguish, 

As  shrill,  as  solemn,  as  sad  as  slow, 
And  my  soul  for  a  season  seemed  to  languish 

And  faint  with  its  weight  of  wo. 
With  skilful  hands  that  were  never  weary. 

This  master  of  music  played  strain  on  strain; 
And  between  the  bars  of  the  Miserere 

He  drew  up  the  strings  of  my  heart  again. 
And  I  was  filled  with  a  vague,  strange  wonder 

To  see  that  they  did  not  break  m  two; 
They  are  drawn  so  tight  they  will  snap  asunder 

I  thought,  but  instead  they  grew 
In  the  hands  of  the  Master,  firmer  and  stronger, 

And  I  could  hear  on  the  stilly  air; 
Now  my  ears  were  deafened  by  mirth  no  longer, 

The  sounds  of  sorrow,  and  grief  and  despair. 
And  my  soul  grew  tender  and  kind  to  others; 

My  nature  grew  sweeter  and  my  mind  grew  broad 
And  I  held  all  men  to  be  my  brothers, 

Linked  by  the  chastening  rod, 
My  soul  Avas  lifted  to  God  and  heaven, 

And  when  on  my  heart-strings  fell  again 
The  hands  of  Mii'th  and  Pleasure,  even, 

There  was  no  discord  to  mar  the  strain. 
For  Pain,  the  Musician,  the  soul  refiner. 

Attuned  the  strings  with  a  master  hand. 
And  whether  the  music  be  major  or  minor, 

It  is  always  sweet  and  grand. 


SERIOUS  HITS  317 

ON  THE  RAPPAHANNOCK 

ANONYMOUS 

The  sun  had  set,  and  in  the  distant  west 

The  last  red  streaks  had  faded;  night  and  rest 

Fell  on  the  earth;  stilled  was  the  cannon's  roar; 

And  many  a  soldier  slept  to  wake  no  more. 

'Twas  early  spring — a  calm  and  lovely  night — 

The  moon  had  flooded  all  the  earth  with  light. 

On  either  side  the  Rappahannock  lay 

The  armies;  resting  till  the  break  of  day 

Should  call  them  to  renew  the  fight.    So  near 

Together  were  the  camps  that  each  could  hear 

The  other's  sentry  call.     And  now  appear 

The  blazing  bivouac  fires  on  every  hill, 

And  save  the  tramp  of  pickets  all  is  still. 

Between  those  silent  hills  in  beauty  flows 

The  Rappahannock.    How  its  bosom  glows ! 

How  all  its  sparkling  waves  reflect  the  light 

And  add  new  glories  to  the  starlit  night ! 

But  hark !  From  Northern  hill  there  steal  along 

The  strains  of  martial  music  mixed  with  song : 

"Star  Spangled  Banner,  may'st  thou  ever  wave, 

Over  the  land  we  shed  our  blood  to  save !" 

And  still  they  sing  those  words :    "Our  cause  is  just. 

We'll  triumph  in  the  end;  in  God  we  trust; 

Star  Spangled  Banner,  wave,  forever  wave, 

Over  a  land  united,  free  and  brave !" 

Scarce  had  this  died  away  when  along 

The  river  rose  another  glorious  song : 

A  thousand  lusty  throats  the  chorus  sing : 

With  "Rally  Round  the  Flag,"  the  hilltops  ring. 

And  well  they  sang.    Each  heart  was  filled  with  joy. 

From  first  in  rank  to  little  drummer-boy. 

The  loud  huzzas  and  wildest  cheers  were  given, 

That  seemed  to  cleave  the  air  and  reach  to  heaven. 

The  Union  songs,  the  loud  and  heartfelt  cheers 

Fall  in  the  Southern  camp  on  listening  ears. 


318  SERIOUS  HITS 

"Wliile  talking  at  their  scanty  evening  meal 

They  pause  and  grasp  theii'  trusty  blades  of  steel. 

Fearless  they  stand  and  ready  for  the  fray; 

Such  sounds  can  startle  them,  but  not  dismay. 

Alas!   Those  strains  of  music  which  of  yore 

Could  rouse  their  hearts  are  felt  by  them  no  more. 

When  the  last  echo  of  the  song  had  died 

And  all  was  silent  on  the  Northern  side, 

There  came  from  Southern  hill,  with  gentle  swell, 

The  air  of  "Dixe,"  which  was  loved  so  well 

By  every  man  that  wore  the  coat  of  gray, 

And  is  revered  and  cherished  to  this  day. 

*'In  Dixie's  Land"  they  swore  to  live  and  die. 

That  Avas  their  watchword,  that  their  battle-cry. 

Then  rose  on  high  the  wild  Confederate  yell. 

Resounding  over  every  hill  and  dell. 

Cheer  after  cheer  went  up  that  starry  night 

From  men  as  brave  as  ever  saw  the  light. 

Now  all  is  still.    Each  side  has  played  its  part. 

How  simple  songs  will  fire  a  soldier's  heart ! 

But  hark !   O'er  Rappahannock's  stream  there  floats 

Another  tune ;  but  ah !  how  sweet  the  notes. 

Not  such  as  lash  men's  passions  into  foam, 

But— richest  gem  of  song— 'tis  "Home,  Sweet  Home !" 

Played  by  the  band,  it  reached  the  very  soul, 

And  down  the  veteran's  cheeks  the  tear-drops  stole. 

On  either  side  the  stream,  from  North  and  South, 

Men  who  would  march  up  to  the  cannon's  mouth 

Wept  now  like  children.    Tender  hearts  and  true 

Were  beating  'neath  those  coats  of  gray  and  blue. 

The  sentry  stopt  and  rested  on  his  gun, 

While  back  to  home  his  thoughts  unhindered  run. 

He  thought  of  loving  wife  and  children  there 

Deprived  of  husband's  and  of  father's  care. 

And  stripling  lads,  scarce  strong  enough  to  bear 

The  weight  of  saber  or  of  knapsack,  tried 

To  stop  their  tears  with  foolish,  boyish  pride. 

They  might  as  well  have  sought  to  stop  the  tide  I 


SERIOUS  HITS  319 

Through  both  those  hostile  camps  the  music  stole 
And  stirred  each  soldier  to  his  inmost  soul. 
From  North  and  South,  in  sjonpathy,  there  rose 
A  shout  tremendous;  forgetting  they  were  foes, 
Both  armies  joined  and  shouted  with  one  voice 
That  seemed  to  make  the  very  heavens  rejoice. 

Sweet  music's  power !    One  chord  doth  make  us  wild. 
But  change  the  stram,  we  weep  as  little  child. 
Touch  yet  another,  men  charge  the  battery-gun, 
And  by  those  martial  strains  a  victory's  won ! 
But  there's  one  strain  that  friends  and  foes  will  win, 
One  magic  touch  that  makes  the  whole  world  kin: 
No  heart  so  cold,  but  will,  tho  far  it  roam, 
Respond  with  tender  thrill  to  "Home,  Sweet  Home !" 

COMO 

BY  JOAQUIN  MILLER 

The  red-clad  fishers  row  and  creep 

Below  the  craigs,  as  half  asleep, 

Nor  even  make  a  smgle  sound. 

The  walls  are  steep, 

The  waves  are  deep ; 

And  if  the  dead  man  should  be  found 

By  these  same  fishers  in  their  round. 

Why,  who  shall  say  but  he  was  drowned  ? 

The  lake  lay  bright,  as  bits  of  broken  moon 

Just  newly  set  within  the  cloven  earth ; 

The  ripened  fields  drew  round  a  golden  girth 

Far  up  the  steppes,  and  glittered  in  the  noon. 

And  when  the  sun  fell  down,  from  leafy  shore 

Fond  lovers  stole  m  pairs  to  ply  the  oar. 

The  stars,  as  large  as  lilies,  flecked  the  blue ; 

From  out  the  Alps  the  moon  came  wheeling  through 

The  rocky  pass  the  great  Napoleon  knew. 


320  SERIOUS    HITS 

A  gala  night  it  was — the  season's  prime; 
We  rode  from  castled  lake  to  festal  town, 
To  fair  Milan — my  friend  and  I;  rode  down 
By  night,  where  grasses  waved  in  rii)pled  rhyme; 
And  so  what  theme  but  love  in  such  a  time? 
His  proud  lip  eun-ed  the  while  in  silent  scorn 
At  thought  of  love;  and  then,  as  one  forlorn, 
He  sighed,  then  bared  his  temples,  dashed  with  gray. 
Then  mocked,  as  one  outworn  and  well  blase. 


A  gorgeous  tiger-lUy,  flaming  red. 

So  full  of  battle,  of  the  trumpets  blare, 

Of  old-time  passion,  i;preared  its  head. 

I  galloped  past,  I  leaned,  I  clutched  it  there. 

From  out  the  long,  strong  grass  I  held  it  high, 

And  cried,  "Lo!  this  to-night  shall  deck  her  hair 

Through  all  the  dance.    And  mark !  the  man  shall  die 

Who  dares  assault,  for  good  or  ill  design, 

The  citadel  where  I  shall  set  this  sign." 


He  spoke  no  spare  word  all  the  after  while. 
That  scornful,  cold,  contemptuous  smile  of  his! 
Why,  better  men  have  died  for  less  than  this. 
Then  in  the  hall  the  same  old  hateful  smile ! 
Then  marvel  not  that  when  she  graced  the  floor, 
With  all  the  beauties  gathered  from  the  four 
Far  quarters  of  tlie  world,  and  she,  my  fair. 
The  fairest,  wore  within  her  midnight  hair 
My  tiger-lily — marvel  not,  I  say, 
That  he  glared  like  some  Avild  beast  well  at  bay! 


Oh,  she  slione  fairer  than  the  summer  star, 
Or  curled  sweet  moon  in  middle  destinj^ 
More  fair  than  sunrise  climbing  uj)  the  sea, 
Where  all  the  loves  of  Ariadne  are. 


SEKIOUS    HITS  321 

Wlio  loves,  who  truly  loves,  will  stand  aloof. 

The  noisy  tongue  makes  most  unholy  proof 

Of  shallow  waters — all  the  while  afar 

From  out  the  dance  I  stood,  and  watched  my  star, 

My  tiger-lily,  borne  an  oriflamme  of  war. 

A  thousand  beauties  flashed  at  love's  advance. 
Like  bright  white  mice  at  moonlight  in  their  play. 
Or  sunfish  shooting  in  the  shining  bay, 
The  swift  feet  shot  and  glittered  in  the  dance. 
Oh,  have  you  loved,  and  truly  loved,  and  seen 
Aught  else  the  while  than  your  own  stately  queen? 
Her  presence,  it  was  majesty — so  tall ; 
Her   proud   development   encompassed — all. 
She  filled  all  space.     I  sought,  I  saw  but  her. 
I  followed  as  some  fer\'id  worshiiDer, 

Adown  the  dance  she  moved  with  matchless  pace. 

The  world — my  world — moved  Avilh  her.    Suddenly 

I  questioned  whom  her  cavalier  might  be. 

'Twas  he !     His  face  Avas  leaning  to  her  face ! 

I  clutched  my  blade ;  I  sprang ;  I  caught  my  breath, 

And  so  stood  leaning  still  as  death. 

And  they  stood  still.     She  blushed,  then  reached  and  tore 

The  lily  as  she  passed,  and  down  the  floor 

She  strewed  its  heart  like  bits  of  gushing  gore. 

'Twas  he  said  heads,  not  hearts,  were  made  to  break. 
He  taught  me  this  that  night  in  sjilendid  scorn. 
I  learned  too  well.    The  dance  was  done.    Ei'e  morn 
We  mounted — he  and  I — but  no  more  spake. 
And  this  for  woman's  love !     IMy  lily  worn 
In  her  dark  hair  in  pride  to  be  thus  torn 
And  trampled  on  for  this  bold  stranger's  sake ! 
Tivo  men  rode  silent  back  toward  the  lake. 
Two  men  rode  silent  down,  but  only  one 
Rode  icp  at  morn  to  greet  the  rising  sun. 


322  SEEIOUS    HITS 

The  walls  are  steep, 

The  waves  are  deep ; 

And  if  the  dead  man  should  be  found 

By  red-clad  fishers  in  their  round, 

Why,  who  shall  say  but  he  was — drowned? 


AUX   ITALIENS 

BY  OWEN    MEREDITH 

At  Paris  it  was,  at  the  Opera  there; 

And  she  looked  like  a  queen  in  a  book,  that  night, 
With  the  wreath  of  pearl  in  her  raven  hair. 

And  the  brooch  on  her  breast,  so  bright. 

Of  all  the  operas  that  Verdi  wrote. 

The  best,  to  my  taste,  is  the  Trovatore; 
And  Mario  can  soothe  Avith  a  tenor  note 

The  souls  in  purgatory. 

The  moon  on  the  tower  slept  soft  as  snow; 

And  who  was  not  thrilled  in  the  strangest  way, 
As  we  heard  him  sing,  while  the  gas  burned  low, 

''Non  ti  scordar  di  mef" 

The  emperor  there,  in  his  box  of  state, 
Looked  grave,  as  if  he  had  just  then  seen 

The  red  flag  wave  from  the  city-gate. 
Where  his  eagles  in  bronze  had  been. 

The  empress,  too,  had  a  tear  in  her  eye. 

You'd  have  said  that  her  fancy  had  gone  back  again, 
For  one  moment,  under  the  old  blue  sky. 

To  the  old  glad  life  in  Spain. 


SERIOUS   HITS  323 

"Well !  there  iu  our  front-row  box  we  sat 

Togethei',  my  bride-betrothed  and  I; 
My  gaze  was  fixt  on  my  opera-hat, 

And  hers  on  the  stage  hard  by. 

And  both  were  silent,  and  both  were  sad. 

Like  a  queen,  she  leaned  on  her  full  white  arm, 
With  that  regal,  indolent  air  she  had; 

So  confident  of  her  charm ! 

I  have  not  a  doubt  she  was  thinking  then 
Of  her  former  lord,  good  soul  that  he  was! 

Who  died  the  richest  and  roundest  of  men, 
The  Marquis  of  Carabas. 

I  hope  that,  to  get  to  the  kingdom  of  heaven, 
Through  a  needle's  eye  he  had  not  yet  to  pass; 

I  wish  him  well  for  the  jointure  given 
To  my  lady  of  Carabas. 

Meanwhile  I  was  thinking  of  my  first  love. 
As  I  had  not  been  thinking  of  aught  for  years, 

Till  over  my  eyes  there  began  to  move 
Something  that  felt  like  tears. 


I  thought  of  the  dress  that  she  wore  last  time, 
When  we  stood,  'neath  the  cypress-trees,  together, 

In  that  lost  land,  in  that  soft  clime, 
In  the  crimson  evening  weather; 

Of  that  muslin  dress  (for  the  eve  was  hot), 
And  her  warm,  wliite  neck  in  its  golden  chain. 

And  her  full,  soft  hair,  just  tied  in  a  knot, 
And  falling  loose  again; 


324 


SERIOUS    HITS 

And  the  jasmine-flower  in  her  fair,  young  breast; 

Oh,  the  faint,  sweet  smell  of  that  jasmine-flower, 
And  the  one  bird  sin  sins:  alone  to  his  nest. 

And  the  one  star  over  the  tower. 

I  thought  of  our  little  quarrels  and  strife, 

And  the  letter  that  brought  me  back  my  ring, 

And  it  all  seemed  then,  in  the  waste  of  life, 
Such  a  very  little  thing! 

For  I  thought  of  her  grave  below  the  hill. 
Which  the  sentinel  cypress-tree  stands  over. 

And  I  thought  ....  "were  she  only  living  still, 
How  I  could  forgive  her  and  love  her." 

And  I  swear,  as  I  thought  thus,  in  that  hour. 
And  of  how,  after  all,  old  things  were  best, 

That  I  smelt  the  smell  of  that  jasmine-flower, 
Which  she  used  to  wear  in  her  breast. 

It  smelt  so  faint,  and  it  smelt  so  sweet, 
It  made  me  creep,  and  it  made  me  cold ! 

Like  the  scent  that  steals  from  the  crumbling  sheet 
When  a  mummy  is  half  unrolled. 

And  I  turned  and  looked.    She  was  sitting  there 
In  a  dim  box,  over  the  stage;  and  drest 

In  that  muslm  dress,  with  that  full  soft  hair, 
And  that  jasmine  in  her  breast! 

I  was  here,  and  she  was  there, 

And  the  glittering  horseshoe  curved  between — 
From  my  bride-betrothed,  with  her  raven  hair. 

And  her  sumptuous,  scoi-nful  mien. 


SEEIOUS   HITS  325 

To  my  early  love,  with  her  eyes  downcast, 

And  over  her  primrose  face  the  shade 
(In  short,  from  the  Future  back  to  the  Past), 

There  was  but  one  step  to  be  made. 

To  my  early  love  from  my  future  bride 

One  moment  I  looked.    Then  I  stole  to  the  door, 

I  traversed  the  passage;  and  down  at  her  side 
I  was  sitting,  a  moment  more. 

My  thinking  of  her,  or  the  music's  strain, 

Or  something  which  never  will  be  exprest, 
Had  brought  her  back  from  the  grave  again. 

With  the  jasmine  in  her  breast. 

She  is  not  dead,  and  she  is  not  wed! 

But  she  loves  me  now,  and  she  loved  me  then ! 
And  the  very  first  word  that  her  sweet  lips  said, 

My  heart  grew  youthful  again. 

The  marchioness  there,  of  Carabas, 

She  is  wealthy,  and  young,  and  handsome  still, 
And  but  for  her well,  we'll  let  that  pass — 

She  may  marry  whomever  she  will. 

But  I  will  marry  my  own  first  love. 

With  her  primrose  face;  for  old  things  are  best, 

And  the  flower  in  her  bosom,  I  prize  it  above 
The  brooch  in  my  lady's  breast. 

The  world  is  filled  with  folly  and  sin, 
And  Love  must  cling  where  it  can,  I  say; 

Por  Beauty  is  easy  enough  to  win, 
But  one  isn't  loved  every  day. 


326 


SEEIOUS   HITS 

And  I  think,  in  the  lives  of  most  women  and  men, 
There's  a  moment  when  all  would  go  smooth  and  even, 

If  only  the  dead  could  find  out  when 
To  come  back  and  be  forgiven. 

But  oh,  the  smell  of  that  jasmine-flower! 

And  oh,  that  music !  and  oh,  the  way 
That  voice  rang  out  from  the  donjon  tower, 

Non  ti  scordar  di  me,  non  ti  scordar  di  met 


INDEX 


INDEX 


A 

PAGE 

Adams,   Charles   FoIIen 185 

Adams  Won  the  Battle  of  Water- 
loo,   How    Bill 216 

Adeler,    Max    141 

A-feared  of   a   Gal 2:i7 

Afternoon,    One    196 

Agnes,   I   Love  Thee! SI 

Aldrich,   Thomas   Bailej- 47 

Almost    Beyond    Endurance 89 

Amateur   Night    98 

Amsbary,   Wallace  Bruce 107 

And   She   Cried 68 

Anstey,    F 210 

At  Five-o'clock  Tea 143 

At  the   Restaurant 235 

Aux  Italiens    322 


Bachelor    Sews    on    a    Button, 

How  a   154 

Bailey,    James     M 57 

Baine,   William    282 

Banging  a   Sensational   Novelist..  83 

Barbara    Frietchie,    Parody    on...  137 

Bary   Jade,    Lides   to 168 

Becky  Miller    115 

Before    and    After 139 

Belagcholly    Days     93 

Bengaugh,    J.    W 110 

Beyond   Endurance,  Almost 89 

Big    Mistake,    A 129 

Big  Words,  Don't  Use 163 

Billy     of     Nebraska 110 

Blackstonian   Circumlocution,    His  233 

Blossom,   Henry   M.,  Jr 152 

Book   Agent,    The    Merchant    and 

the    134 


PAGE 

Boss,    John    C 247 

Bounding  the  United  States 101 

Boy,    Dot    Leetle 69 

Boy,   Papa  and  the 208 

Bradley,   Mary   E 154 

Break,     Break,    Break 277 

Bridegroom's    Toast.    The 203 

Brooks,     Fred    Emerson 40 

Burbank    261 

Burdette,    Robert    T 199 

Burton,    Richard    267 

Byron     269 

C 

Candidate,  The    193 

Carcassonne    314 

Card,   The   C'rrect 300 

Cards,    Life    Compared    to    a 

Game    of     289 

Carlotta   Mia    228 

Casey  at  the   Bat 147 

Casuistry,    Cupid's    39 

Cato's  Soliloquy  on  Immortality. .  311 

Chance,  They  Met  by 203 

"Charlie   Must  Not  Ring 

To-night"   169 

Checkers,  A  Friendly  Game  of...  150 

Christopher  Columbus 155 

Circumlocution,   His   Blackstonian  233 

Coles,   Cynthia    146 

Como 319 

Content,  I  Am 274 

Coon's  Lullaby,  The 136 

Corydon    47 

Counting  Eggs 86 

Counting  One  Hundred 57 

Crooked  Mouth  Family,  The 122 

C'rrect  Card,  The 300 

329 


330 


INDEX 


PAGE 

Cupid's   Casuistry   39 

Curfew.    The     Elocutionist's 24 

Cyclopeedy,    The    239 

D 

Daly,   T.    A 114,  228 

Dandy    Fifth,    The 293 

Da  'Mericana  Girl 114 

D'Arcy,     H.     Antoine 306 

Davis,    Daniel   Webster 49 

Dead  Kitten,  The 33 

Desprez,    F 284 

Dialectic   Sketch,   A   Lancashire..   232 

Difficulty   of   Riming,   The 179 

Dog   und   der    Lobster,    Der 102 

Don't   Use   Big  Words 163 

Dot  Lambs  Vot  Mary  Haf  Got..    112 

Dot    Leedle    Boy 69 

Double,  and  How  He  Undid  Me, 

My    171 

Drummond,  W.   H 271 

Dunbar,    Paul    Laurence 35,   153 

Dundreary's    Letter,    Lord 131 

Dunne,    Finlay    Peter 73 

Dutchman's   Serenade,  The 220 

E 

Eagle's  Song,  The 275 

Earl    King,    The 313 

Echo     244 

Edwards,    H.     S 44 

Eggs,    Counting    86 

Ehrmann,   Max    98 

Elocutionist's   Curfew,    The 24 

Enchanted   Shirt,  The 183 

Endurance,   Almost  Beyond 89 

Engineer's    Story,    The 303 

Eve  of  Waterloo,  The 269 

P 

Face  Upon  the  Floor,  The 306 

Faith,    The    Ship    of 187, 

Fairies'   Tea,  The    85 


PACE 

Familiar    Lines     149 

Fan,    A    Lesson    with   the 50 

Father's  Way 272 

Feller,    A    Little 126 

Field,    Eugene    239,  272 

Fiend,     The    Weather 34 

Fifteen     Minutes,    Her 28 

Finnigin    to    Flannigan 175 

Fiske,     John     101 

Five-o'clock  Tea,   At 143 

Flannigan,    Finnigan    to 175 

Flowers,    The    Funeral    of   the...  309 

Foss,    S.    W 213,  287 

Fly,  The   156 

Foolin',    Quit   Your 250 

Fool's    Prayer,    The 268 

Freckled-face    Girl,    The 96 

Funeral  of  the  Flowers,  The....  309 

G 

Gal,   A-feared   of   a    237 

Gassaway,    F.    H 293 

Georga  Washingdone   113 

Gib  Him  One  ub  Mine 49 

Gilbert,    W.    S 157 

Gillinan,    S.   W 175 

Girl,    The    Freckled-face 96 

Goethe,   Johann  Wolfgang  von —  313 

Gorilla,     The     82 

Grape-seed    190 

Greek   Meets   Greek,   When 140 

Grilley,  Charles  T 39,  139 

H 

Hale.    Edward    Everett 171 

Hammock,    Romance   of   a 173 

Harbour,  J.   L 208 

Harp  of  a  Thousand  Strings,  The  177 

Hat  in  the  Pit,  The  Obstructive.  210 

Hatton,     Henry     104 

Hay,   John    183 

He  Laughed  Last   103 

Heaton,    John    L 160 

Henry  the    Fifth's   Wooing 254 


INDEX 


331 


PAGE 

Hens,  Lavery's    201 

Her  Fifteen  Minutes   28 

He   Wanted   to   Know 188 

His    Blackstonian    Circumlocution  233 

His  Leg  Shot  OfT    224 

Hood,     Thomas     78 

Hopkins'    Last    Moments 84 

How    a    Bachelor    Sews    on    a 

Button     154 

How  Bill  Adams  Won  the  Battle 

of  Waterloo   216 

Hullo     213 

Huntley,    Stanley    204 

I 

I  Am  Crntent   274 

Idyl   on   "Grass,"   A   Spring 52 

Idyl,    A    Twilight 199 

If  I  Can   Be  By  Her 65 

If   We   Had   the   Time 267 

I    Knew    He    Would    Come    if    I 

Waited     76 

"Imph-M"     124 

Ingalls,    John    J 312 

Introducin'   the    Speecher 54 

Introduction,    An    177 

Irish   Philosopher,   The 91 

Irving,    Minna     68 

Irwin,    Wallace     229 

Italiens,    Aux    322 

I    Tor    Yer    So 160 

J 

Joke,    Leaving    Out    the 238 

Julie  Plante,  The  Wreck  of  the..  271 

K 

Kalm,   The    225 

Katie's  Answer   79 

Katrina  Likes  Me   Poody  Veil...  234 

Keep  A-goin'!    145 

Kerr,   Joe    161 

King,  Byron  W 42 


PAGE 

King,    Benjamin    Frarklin 65 

Kiser,    S.    E 95 

Kitten,    The    Dead     33 

Kleiser,    Granville    60 

L 

Lamb,   The   Original    95 

Lambs  Vot  Mary  Haf  Got,  Dot..  112 

Lampton,    W.    J 39 

Lancashire  Dialectic  Sketch,  A. . .  232 

Lariat  Bill    192 

Lasca    284 

Last  Moments,  Hopkins' 84 

Laughed  Last,   He    103 

Laughton,   James   L 251 

Lavery's  Hens 201 

Leacock,   Stephen    25 

Leaving    Out    the    Joke 238 

Leg    Shot    Off,    His 224 

Lesson  with  the  Fan,  A SO 

Letter,    Lord    Dundreary's 131 

Lever,     Charles     222 

Life     Compared    to    a    Game    of 

Cards    289 

Lides  to  Bary  Jade 168 

Lincoln,  On  296 

Lisp  202 

Little   Stowaway,   The 296 

Liverwing   Testimonial,    The 118 

Loomis,    Charles   Battell 167 

Lord   Dundreary's  Letter 131 

Lover's  Quarrel,   A    146 

Love's  Moods  and  Senses.- Tl 

"L,"    Song   of   the 60 

Lullaby      153 

Lullaby,  The  Coon's 136 

M 

Macaulay    277 

lUalone,  Walter  312 

Malone,     Widow 222 

Mammy's    Li'l    Boy     44 

Man   Who   Will   Make   a   Speech, 

The     227 


332 


INDEX 


PAGE 

Mansfield,    Richard     375 

Marketing    52 

Married  Life,  Ups  and  Downs  of  121 

Mason,   She   Would  be  a 251 

Masson,     Tom     28 

Mayor,  Pat  and  the 1 1 C) 

McCarthy  and   McManus 66 

Melpomenus   Jones 25 

Merchant    and    the    Book    Agent, 

The     134 

Meredith,   Owen    322 

'Mericana   Girl,   Da   114 

Miller,    Joaquin 319 

Mistake,    A    Big    129 

Mr.    Dooley    on    the    Grip 73 

Mr.    Potts'    Story    141 

Modern  Romance   152 

Morgan,    Carrie    Blake 51 

Morris,    Joshua    S 177 

Mule     Stood    on    der     Steamboat 

Deck,    Der    164 

Mumbles  Head,  The  Women  of..  279 

Musicians,    The     315 

My   Double,  and  How  He  Undid 

Me    171 

My     Funny     Experience     with     a 

Whistler    29 

N 

"Nancy   Bell,"    The    Yarn   of   the  157 

Nesbit,    W.    D 24 

New    School    Reader,    The 165 

Nocturnal    Sketch,    A 78 

Norah   Murphy  and  the   Spirits..  104 

Nothing  Suited  Him    126 

Not    In    It    198 

Nye,  Bill  193 

O 

Oak  und  der  Vine,  Der 185 

Oatmobile,    The    87 

Obstructive  Ilat  in  the  Pit,  The.  210 

Old    Daddy   Turner    290 

One  Afternoon    196 


TKtX 

On  Lincoln 296 

On  the  Rappahannock  317 

Opie    Read    107 

Opportunity      312 

Opportunity,   An    190 

Opportunity's  Reply  312 

Oracle,    The    \'illage 62 

Organist,   The   \''olunteer 287 

Original     Lamb,     The 95 

Our   Railroads   245 

P 

Papa   and   the   Boy    208 

Parody   on    Barbara    Frietchie.  . . .    137 

Passion,   The   Ruling 219 

Pat   and   the    Mayor    116 

Pat's    Reason     249 

Philosopher,     The     Irish 91 

Phrases,     Slang     133 

Poor   Was   Mad,   The 167 

Prayer,   The   Fool's    268 

Presentation  of  the  Trumpet 162 

Proof  Positive   90 

Q 

Quarrel,   A   Lover's   146 

yuarreled.    They    Never 58 

Quit    Your    Foolin'    250 

R 

Race  Question,  The  35 

Railroads,     Our     245 

Rainy  Day  Episode,  A 75 

Rappahannock,   On   the 317 

Reader,  The  New  School 165 

Reason,     Pat's     249 

Reason  Why,  The 154 

Rehearsing    for    Private    Theatri- 
cals        204 

Reply,   Opportunity's   312 

Restaurant,    .^t   the    235 

Riley,  James  Whitcomb 23,  69,     89 

Riming,   The   Difficulty  of 179 


INDEX 


333 


PAGE 

Ring      To-night,      Cliarlic      Must 

Not   169 

"Rip  Van  Winkle,"   Scenes  from  261 

Rivals,  Scenes  from  The 258 

Robin    Tamson's    Smiddy 127 

Roche,  James  Jeffrey 206 

Rodger,    Alexander    127 

Romance,    Modern    152 

Romance    of    a    Hammock 173 

Ruling  Passion,   The 219 

S 

Saint   Crispian's   Day 299 

Saxe,     John     G 244 

Scott,     Clement     279 

Sensational  Novelist,  Banging  a..      83 

Serenade,   The   Dutchman's 220 

Sermon,   A   Short    231 

Shakespeare     254,  299 

She  Would  Be  a  Mason 251 

Sheridan,   Richard   Brinsley 258 

Sherwood,  M.   E.   W 314 

Ship  of  Faith,   The 187 

Shirt,    The    Enchanted 183 

Short  Encore,  A 170 

Short   Sermon,   A 231 

Sill,  Edward  Rowland   268 

Sims,   George    R 300 

Siviter,    William    H 219 

Slang   Phrases    133 

Smiddy,    Robin  Tamson's 127 

Smiley,  Joseph  Bert 181 

Snazzle,    G.    H 29,216 

Song,   The   Eagle's 275 

Song   of   the   "L." 60 

So   Was   I    181 

"'Spacially   Jim"    80 

Speecher,     Introducin'     the 54 

Speech,     The     Man     Who     Will 

Make     a 227 

Spirits,   Norah  Murphy  and  the..    104 

Spring  Idyl  on  "Grass,"  A 52 

Spurr,   N.   B 118 

Stanton,  Frank  L 145 

Story,    The    Engineer's ,,  303 


PAGE 

Stowaway,  The  Little    296 

Stuttering  Umpire,   The    225 

Sylva,  Carmen    274 

T 

Talmage,  T.   De  Witt 309 

Telephone,    The    Dutchman's 214 

Tell  and  His  Boy,  William 282 

Tennyson,   Alfred    277 

Thayer,    Phineas    147 

Theatricals,    Rehearsing    for 

Private     204 

They  Never  Quarreled    58 

Thorpe,  Rosa  H 303 

Time,  If  We  Had  the 267 

Toast,    The    Bridegroom's    203 

Train,    Misses  the    23 

Tramp,    The     292 

Trumpet,    Presentation    of    the...    162 

Turner,   Old   Daddy   290 

Twain,    Mark    177 

Twilight    Idyl,    A 199 

U 

Undertow,  The    51 

United  States,  Bounding  the 101 

Umpire,  The  Stuttering 225 

Ups  and  Downs  of  Married  Life, 

The     121 

Usual  Way,  The   125 

V 

V-a-s-e,  The   206 

Vassar   Girl,    The 229 

Village  Choir,  The  108 

Village   Oracle,    The    62 

Virginius 277 

Volunteer  Organist,  The 287 

W 

Wade,    Morris    143 

Wakin'  the  Young  'Uns 247 

Watchia'  the  Sparkin' 40 


334 


INDEX 


I'AGE 

Waterloo,   The  Eve  of 269 

Waterloo,   How   Bill  Adams   Won 

the    Battle    of    216 

Waterman,    Nixon    52 

Way,   Father's    272 

Way,   The   Usual    125 

Way  of  a  Woman,  The    42 

Weather    Fiend,    The    34 

When  Greek  Meets  Greek 140 

When   Ma   Lady  Yawns 39 

When  Pa  Was  a  Boy 95 

When  the  Woodbine  Turns  Red.  38 
Whistler,    My    Funny    Experience 

with  a    29 

Whitman,    Walt    296 


PAGE 

Widow  Malone    222 

William  Tell  and  His  Boy 282 

Williamson,  H.  G 76 

Willie     98 

Woman,   The  Way  of  a 42 

Women  of  Mumbles  Head,  The..  279 

Woodbine  Turns  Red,  When  the.  38 

Wreck  of  the  Julie  I'lante,  The..  271 


Yacht    Club    Speech,    The 43 

Yarn  of  the  "Nancy  Bell,"  The.  157 

Yawns,  When  Ma  Lady 39 

"You   Git   Up!"    161 


How  TO  Develop 

Power  and 

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IN  Speaking 

By  GRENVILLE    KLEISER 
Author  of  "How  to'Speak  in  Public.''   Intioduction  by  Lewis  O.  Bras- 
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Mechanics  of  Elocution 
Mental  Aspects 
Public  Speaking 
Selections  for  Practise 


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Physical  Preparation 
Mental  Preparation 
Moral  Preparation 


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